


Autophobia

by taytayloulou



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alpha Jay, Alpha Mal, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beta Evie, Carlos de Vil-centric, Child Abuse, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Multi, Omega Carlos, Sub Drop, eventual OT4 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-04-14 03:33:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 56,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14127192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taytayloulou/pseuds/taytayloulou
Summary: Omegas on the Isle of the Lost are ripped to pieces, so Carlos will spend the rest of his life pretending to be a beta.Or: 5 times Carlos De Vil lied about being an omega (and the 1 time he didn't have to)





	1. Cruella

**Author's Note:**

> Descendants is horribly lacking ABO fics and I am here to change that.

Cruella always hoped he’d be an omega.

For a while, Carlos did too. It would be such an easy way to make his mother happy. When he was young and impressionable, there were days she would stroke his hair and talk about how cute he is and he would be oh, so beautiful as an omega. It was one of the few times she was gentle with him and didn’t strike him.

Then, Carlos grew and began to understand _why_ Cruella wanted him to present as an omega.

“I’d get to sell you off,” she would sing, “to the highest bidder. You’d bring mummy a very pretty penny. Maybe someone would even find me some furs to trade for you. Or,” Cruella would hum to herself and place her thumb against his mouth, pulling on his lip, “I’d keep you and just rent you out to some alpha. I wouldn’t get as much for someone to take you only for a night, but it would be steady income.”

She always said those things as if she weren’t really talking to Carlos, but that wasn’t uncommon. Cruella often spoke to herself.

The idea of pleasing her and supporting her, proving his worth, were just a few of the many things Carlos wanted in his life. He would stop being hit and screamed at, they would have money and get to buy food. It would all be okay.

As he grew and explored the market place more, Carlos couldn’t think of a worse fate than becoming an omega.

They were practically nonexistent on the Isle. Villains were usually strong and dominant, an overwhelming population of the island were alphas. A rare few were betas, like Cruella. She had fought to be taken seriously as a fashion empire and got away with crimes much longer than most villains did because few people believed that a beta would kidnap and skin puppies. Betas were simply not worth fearing.

If betas weren’t taken seriously, omegas were downright jokes.

They were rare on the Isle, all of them were sidekicks to more formidable villains. Word on the Isle was that Anastasia Tremaine was an omega as well as LeFou, but both had found respectable alphas and clung to them for protection. No one was quite dumb enough to mess with Lady Tremaine or Gaston.

In the market place, there was always talk of missed omegas. Domineering villains craved submission and someone to control. They longed for their old days of forcing others to kneel and obey, to use and abuse as they pleased.

Jafar had once said he would have had to beat the fight out of Jasmine to turn her into a _proper omega who knew to submit_ – chain her, whip her, starve her until she knew her place.

Carlos had just been trying to steal some fruit when he overheard that years ago and the words had nearly made him sick.

It’s not until now, when he’s stuck on the stairs with a pile of Cruella’s clean laundry spill from his hold because Carlos had almost toppled over, that he wonders if that’s why Cruella hit him so often.

“No,” he whispers, finally dropping all of the clothes to clutch his stomach. “No, no, no, no, no.” This can’t be happening.

He just turned 14. This is way outside of the normal age range to present.

Cruella is a beta, his father is unknown, but Carlos is likely to follow his mother and be a beta too.

The Isle doesn’t have omegas, they just don’t survive somewhere so carnal and violent.

Okay, okay. Carlos takes a deep breath and stands straighter. He’s not… There’s no way… The possibility is far too slim…

Another cramp hits him and he doubles over on the steps, kneeling on one of Cruella’s pants, the leather ones. He can _smell_ them, along with Cruella’s perfume and the soap he used for her clothes. They’ve been hanging up for almost a day, entirely dry and clean but Carlos can smell them. He can smell bleach too from when he had cleaned the floors earlier in the week, the slightly rancid meat he had thrown out yesterday, the lingering scent of smoke even though Cruella left hours ago.

His own clothing feels too tight on his skin, too hot. Carlos groans and rests his head against the wall, breathing through his mouth to fight off the overpowering stench of _everything_.

This is it. He is presenting as an omega. Carlos hadn’t considered it as a possibility in years.

All kids on the Isle present late. The starvation, the malnutrition, the stunted growth, it all led to them presenting years after what textbooks said were common ages.

He could have been a beta like his mother, but there’s no way Cruella slept with an alpha man. Two betas or a beta and an omega were perfectly likely to produce an omega child.

Just because omegas are rare on an island full of alphas doesn’t make them impossible.

Carlos kicks the laundry down the steps as he moves, grunting as he sluggishly crawls. There’s a tightness in his stomach, a pain in his abdomen that he can’t ignore. He’ll have to rewash the clothes and hang everything back up, but Carlos isn’t focused on that right now.

Classes in Dragon Hall are about evil schemes and how to be nasty. They have one class that teaches about sex and changes. When the boys in the back stop making crude jokes and the girls stop catcalling, very little is explained.

Back when he had fretted about being an omega, Carlos had looked into it. There were a few books in the library he could read on the topic.

Omegas present with a heat, the desire to submit. They get quiet and soft and desperate to please. It’s a good idea to have someone else with them, to care for and provide. Praise helps, scenting helps, physical contact helps.

Carlos won’t have a single one of those things during his first heat. Or any of heats.

He shakily stands and stays close to the wall. The pain in his stomach is nothing compared to the damage Cruella has done before, Carlos can walk with minimal wobbling.

It’s probably why Cruella hit him so often, Carlos thinks again. A person’s role is decided on genetic factors mostly, but environmental elements can play into it as well. Children who had extra responsibilities at young ages drifted toward alphas because they already knew how to take charge and provide.

Carlos, being saddled with chores and caring for his mother, had never considered being an alpha. But looking back and realizing how his mother pushed him into submission, burnt him to make him obey, screamed at him so Carlos wouldn’t fight. He feels sick. Not angry though. He has long stopped feeling angry with his mother for the things she does. Anger never got him anywhere.

Neither did self-pity.

The water from the faucet is dirty and murky, but it clears up after Carlos lets it run for a minute. He fills a cracked glass and brings it to his lips.

Cruella is gone for the week, a circumstance that Carlos thanks Hades for. He doesn’t know what he smells like right now, but according to the books in the back of the library, people will be able to smell Carlos’ heat on him.

Which means he can’t leave the house for the next few days.

He opens the cupboards to find them bare, like usual. “Damn it.” Of course Cruella wouldn’t leave any food for him while she’s gone, Carlos didn’t expect her to.

His scent will get stronger as the heat progresses, so it’s weakest right now at the beginning. Probably weaker than usual since he’s just presented.

Carlos has gone weeks without food before but it’s awful, he’d like to prevent it if he can especially with his heat. All the changes his body will go through could be made worse by hunger. He ducks his head and takes a deep breath. He needs to make a decision and he needs to make it _now_.

With a firm resolution, Carlos moves quickly. He steps over the crumpled laundry at the base of the steps and leans heavily on the railing. The cramps come in waves, but all of Cruella’s beatings have given him experience in moving with pain.

Outside of her bedroom, he hesitates only a moment. If Cruella ever found out what Carlos is about to do, she would try to kill him. He tries not to think about that as he steps inside and over to her tilted vanity, where cracked perfume are scattered.

Carlos grabs a handful of them and sprays his neck with the first one. He only gets a couple of spurts before he’s coughing and gagging. Is his mother’s perfume always so strong? Carlos waves in front of his face, moves back into the hall for some clean air, but the scent follows him and is no less suffocating.

It takes more than a few minutes until he can catch his breath and remember that senses are heightened with heats. Everything will be elevated for the next week, especially his sense of smell.

“Awesome,” Carlos mumbles to himself. He eyes the bottles wearily and reconsiders going the next week locked in the house without food.

No. This is his first heat and he’ll spend it alone, the least he will need is food.

Deep breath… Carlos scrunches up his nose and sprays again, flinching when the mist hits his skin. He gets his neck, his wrists, all over his shirt in less than thirty seconds. When the burn in his lungs becomes too much and he opens his mouth, it’s too late for Carlos to back out. He gags and splutters, the smell of _cherry blossoms_ (whatever the hell those are) is so overwhelming that he can taste it on his tongue.

He finds his way back to the stairs, leaving Cruella’s perfume in the hallway and her door opened, but he’ll worry about that later. She’s at the spa for the week – somewhere on the other side of the Isle with slightly cleaner water and occasional warmth, so he’s heard – and Carlos will have plenty of time to clean it all up later. Once he figures out what will happen during his heat, he’ll learn how to work around it.

The laundry at the steps catches his feet and he stumbles. Already, his heat is beginning to affect him. Carlos feels sluggish and jumpy at the same time, like he could run a marathon or sleep for days right now.

He must move faster.

Cruella has no idea about the bit of money Carlos keeps under the sink for situations like this – where running to his room and evading bear traps would take too much time when he needs to leave in a hurry. There’s just a few dollars, but Carlos has a couple of only partly-dead batteries and a flashlight that flickers in his pocket too. Someone out there would be willing to part with bread for power and light.

At the front door of Hell Hall, Carlos can still smell the perfume so strongly that his eyes water. His pocket jingle just a little bit, but people are so loud that no one will hear it and want to rob him. Even if they tried, Carlos’ heart is still pounding and he thinks he can outrun any jerk who would grab him.

There’s a part of him, one he is desperate to ignore, that thinks Carlos might not run if someone grabbed him. According to the books, omegas instinctively sought out betas and alphas to help them during heats. If someone snatches him, will he fight or will he bare his throat and submit?

The thought has Carlos shivering, but out of fear or excitement, he can’t tell. If this is the first day of his heat, the rest of the week will be so much worse.

Without time to talk himself out of it, Carlos steps out of his house and nearly flinches. The sun is so bright, the Isle is so noisy, the ache in his stomach doubles, everything is just so much all at once.

“Shit.” He places a hand over his eyes and leans back against the door. This is a bad idea, this is stupid, he ought to stay inside and ride it out until this is all over with.

A scream jolts him out of his stupor. Carlos looks around for the person, but sees no one nearby. He creeps down the stone steps and looks down the road. It’s a woman, screeching at the retreating back of a young girl. They are several houses down with more people in between them, Carlos never would have noticed her shrieking any other day.

He squints in the dim sunlight and makes out…Mal? Maleficent’s kid, the one who likes to push Carlos into lockers and steal his food. She’s stealing a woman’s purse and if Mal spots him, Carlos will be her  next target.

“Get back here, you little brat!”

Carlos shakes his head and resists the urge to cover his ears. He finally notices that he’s at the edge of his yard. Another step and he’ll be on the sidewalk.

It’s now or never.

A final look back at Mal, who’s running the other way and distracting the people down the street and cackling loud enough for all to hear, Carlos moves onto the cracked sidewalk and starts heading toward the marketplace.

If Hell Hall was overwhelming, the Isle is suffocating.

The scent of burning hair in the wind has Carlos’ stomach churning.

A baby screams so loudly, it sounds as if it’s right next to him.

There’s a man shouting the next road over and the noise has him flinching.

Nearby, rancid beef stew is being made, Carlos nearly vomits.

A couple of girls fighting run into a trash can; it falls to the street and he jumps.

How far is the damn market place?

“Well, well, well, hello dog. Mummy let ya off yar leash?”

Carlos whirls around so quickly, he is left dizzy and disoriented.

Jasper and Horace stand side by side against a crumbling wall, grinning at him. “We told the missus that we’d stop by and make sure ya hadn’t burnt the house down.” Horace says. “We was headin’ over now, whatcha doin’ out?”

The both reek of cigarettes and body odor. Carlos tries breathing through his mouth, but that just means he can taste it. “I’m out…buying a gift for my mother.”

“With what money?” Jasper leers.

“I-I helped a s-student with homework,” Carlos says. It’s not totally a lie, he always helps people with homework. Usually by doing the work himself and handing it over to the bully the next day. “They said they’d p-pay me with a…” His head is so fuzzy. What does Cruella like again? All women like jewelry, right? “A ring.”

“Smell like ya’re doing more than just homework,” Horace laughs and steps nearer to sniff him.

Carlos freezes. Surely he put on enough perfume to hide whatever scent his heat gives off, right?

“Ya gotta a nice little lady ya’re fuckin’? Can’t wait to tell Cruella.”

“No!” Carlos puts his hands up. “Nothing like that!”

“Yar girlfriend over in Hell Hall right now?” Horace looks down the street to the decrepit mansion. “Should I tell her that ya’re having friends over?”

Carlos shakes his head again, but that makes everything wobbly. The smell of these two is unbearable, his clothes are too constrictive, his stomach is cramping again. “No. There’s no one.”

“Why do ya smell like such a girl then?” Jasper asks and steps closer.

Horace and Jasper are both betas, their sense of smell shouldn’t be strong enough to uncover his secret, especially not with how weak it is in the beginning. That’s logic, Carlos loves logic, but he feels so exhausted and wound up and weary and panicked that he can’t think properly.

“Whatcha hidin’?” Horace reaches for him, but Carlos ducks away.

He knows just bits and pieces of omega nature, all from the books, the urge to submit is present, but not overpowering his free will and Carlos frets how long his control will last. If either of the men successfully grab him, Carlos has no idea how he will respond. He could give himself away without even thinking about it.

Jasper lunges next, but Carlos evades him just as well. With all of his sense heightened, he is alert of every movement. It makes his head ache, but at least he’s fast enough.

“Come here, ya little shit,” Horace moves again, but Carlos is already running.

In the face of a threat, his body screams for safety and comfort, peace and quiet. It’s what he’s always craved, really, but he’s never felt so desperate for it before. The cramps are forgotten and the idea of days without food is not so bad because Carlos wants _home_. He never thought he’d associate Hell Hall with that word, but he wants to be in his room, huddled on his mattress, surrounded by familiar furs and scents.

His feet hitting the pavement are still too loud, the glare of the sun of the windows is too bright, the scent of perfume still on his shirt is too thick. Carlos races up the concrete steps, rips the door open and leaps back inside. He throws the door shut, locks it immediately. The panic and focus on getting the hell away meant that Carlos hadn’t even checked to see if Horace and Jasper were chasing him, but a loud bang on the door answers him.

“Come on out before we tell your mummy about the lass ya’ve got in there!”

“I don’t have anyone!” Carlos shouts. “Leave me alone!”

 “Guess we gonna go find her then, Jas. Tell her about how her little brat is fucking around instead of doing his chores.”

Good, whatever, as long as they _leave_.

Carlos exhales as he hears their retreating footsteps. He has just enough mind to run through the kitchen and lock the back door as well, double checking the windows too.

He’s ensured his safety, got away from potential danger. Carlos can finally breathe.

And rip his shirt off.

The perfume is still too thick, despite him having put it on half an hour ago. His skin itches and burns, his stomach hurts, his head feels too heavy… When did the room start spinning?

Carlos puts his hands to his head. It’s as if his short run back to Hell Hall has taken every bit of his energy. His heart rate is erratic and he’s trembling and sweating now. With a low groan, he finds the nearest wall and slides down it, crumpling to the floor.

He can’t move. He can’t stop shaking. He wants someone – anyone – to be with him right now, but there’s no one.

Before, Carlos had always wanted to be left alone: from his mother, Horace and Jasper, the bullies. But as his heat grows and everything aches and the room tilts, he just wants someone to hold his hand.

But when has he ever gotten what he wanted?

The smell of smoke and bleach and rancid meat is too strong and Carlos wants to get out of the room, but he can’t. He doesn’t even have the strength to crawl. He’s shivering and his teeth are chattering and he’s freezing but his skin is slick with perspiration, a fever that he doesn’t understand.

Another feeble groan escapes him and Carlos pulls his knees to his chest and rests his burning forehead on the cool linoleum floor even though the bleach smell chokes him. All too suddenly, he feels his heart rate dropping and his breathing slows.

He is exhausted, unable to even keep his eyes open. All the pain fades and all the smells are nauseating, but another minute passes and Carlos falls asleep on the floor, whimpering to himself.

* * *

 

His heat passes faster than anticipated but not quickly enough, probably because it’s his first. The rest will be worse. Carlos doesn’t remember a lot of details, but he remembers craving another person to be with him, someone to hold him and help him to bed because he was too weak to do it himself. He wanted to submit, to expose his throat and have someone to take control, but the doors were soundly locked.

Jasper and Horace might have come back, Carlos can’t remember. Maybe he dreamt it? Most of it seems like a dream – hazy and distant, as if he can’t believe this is reality.

But this is reality. Carlos is an omega. He presented just a few days ago. Heats will be regular, the state of complete vulnerability and pain will happen once every few months. He will continue to crave alphas and even betas and cling to them.

Maybe he can’t entirely recall the past few days, but when he finally finds himself alert, he’s curled at the foot of Cruella’s favorite arm chair in just his shorts and still whimpering. Carlos can remember the burn of his skin, the cramps in his abdomen, the weariness and pitiful mind he had.

It’s unfair and impractical for him to be an omega, but there’s no point in being angry. Anger never got him anywhere.

Neither did self-pity.

Moving is still a challenge, probably because he had gone so long without food and spent all of his nights on the floor, but Carlos manages to crawl to the windows and open them just a bit. He needs to get the smell of his heat out of the house before anyone stops by.

The fresh air – well, as fresh as the Isle gets – is relieving and cool on his face. Carlos thinks he probably needs a bath or two, but he’ll worry about that in a moment. Right now, he just wants to sit by the window, close his eyes and breathe.

A car door slams nearby and Carlos jolts. Had he fallen asleep again? The exhaustion in his bones seems like it will never fade. He blinks and peers outside to see striking red in the driveway again.

His mother is home.

“Shit.”

Carlos almost gets up to move, but she’s already stepping out of her car. The minute he would have to clean up the place and try to catch up on chores won’t be worth it. He decides to save his energy, what little he has.

“Boy!” Cruella shrieks as she pounds on the door.

Right, he locked it.

With trembling legs, Carlos pushes himself up and stays by the wall. No point in prolonging the inevitable. He undoes the lock and opens the door, nearly whining at the sudden wind of air.

Without waiting, Cruella shoves him to the floor, which is honestly preferred because Carlos didn’t have the strength to stand for much longer. “You little _mutt_ ,” she sneers down at him, “Jasper and Horace took it upon themselves to ruin my time at the spa because of your little fuck date.”

His what? Carlos blinks up at her, racking his head until…

Jasper and Horace thought Carlos was wasting his time with sex. The smell of Cruella’s perfume lead them to believe he was fooling around.

“No, m-mother, I didn’t-t.”

Cruella sticks her nose in the air and slowly inhales while Carlos freezes. He opened a window and the door is still open, surely she can’t still smell…

“Liar,” she hisses. “There’s a new smell in here, someone else was here.” Cruella lifts her foot and bring her heel down on his fingers.

Carlos yelps and tries to pull free, but he’s far too weak to do anything.

After a moment, smiling at his wail of pain, Cruella steps further into the house. “You better have found time to finish your… What is this?”

He can hardly stand, so Carlos just turns on the floor to follow her gaze.

On the floor, still by the steps, is all of Cruella’s laundry. Her pants and shirts, the ones that don’t need to be hanged, her spotted pajamas and undergarments, all strewn over the floor. He had never picked them up and brought them to Cruella’s room

Which, if Carlos remembers correctly, is still opened with perfume bottles laying in the hall.

“You didn’t…” Cruella looks at him, honestly baffled, then around the room. Pillows are on the ground, Carlos’ own clothing lay everywhere, nothing is dusted or swept or mopped or scrubbed. “You didn’t do any of your chores.”

Those words sound odd to both of them. Carlos is so good at keeping up with the demands of his mother, even if she likes to yell otherwise. He almost never fails to complete her lists.

But he had failed this time. He hadn’t even looked at the list of chores.

Carlos can’t meet her gaze. Instead, he looks around the room, at all his failures. He spots one of Cruella’s shirts by the couch, one he dragged over and buried his face in, desperate for a sense of familiarity and protection that he knew would never come from her.

He hears the _smack_ before the pain registers, Carlos’ head spinning and ears ringing at the hit.

“You ungrateful little asshole,” she nearly whispers, “I was gone almost a _week_ and you did nothing but fuck some stranger? In _my_ house?” Cruella draws herself up to her full height, looking monstrously huge to Carlos on the floor. She brings her foot down on his stomach, doesn’t even smile when Carlos loses all the air in his lungs. “Give me one reason why I let you live, you worthless _dog_.”

The mockery hurts worse now, her displeasure causing an ache through his body that Carlos has never felt. It’s part of being an omega, he thinks as he fights for air, and being desperate to please. He had always wanted to please his mother, just as all children do, but her disappointment is an entirely new torture itself.

Cruella grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head up. “One reason why I shouldn’t kick you to the curb and let the dogs-” Carlos flinches “-on the Isle find you when you can’t even do a simple list of chores! You can’t even pull your own weight! All the things I do for you and this is the thanks I get?” She brings her hand down against his face again, the rings on her fingers catching his cheek and tearing his skin.

Carlos just wants to please his mother, he’s only ever wanted to make her happy. Her wrath has him shaking and his instinct, not entirely new but never having been this strong, to soothe and appease is enough for him to open his mouth.

“I… I-I…”

She’s going to be so thrilled to learn he’s an omega, she’ll be so ecstatic that she’ll never want to hit him again. Cruella will sell him or rent him and get money, she’ll have the life she used to have and she’ll be happy. Carlos will be good, he’ll be of use, he’ll make her proud.

“You _what_?”

It’s the scent of cigarettes on her breath that saves him. It’s the same scent that made him cough and choke for days, the smell that left him nauseous with how powerful it was in the house. The stench of nicotine had left him breathless and nearly sick many times when Carlos was too weak to move.

The urge to admit and please is strong, but the instinct to survive is stronger.

“Nothing, mother,” he ducks his gaze. “Nothing.”

Cruella raises her hand and Carlos closes his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First up was Cruella, who's next?
> 
> What was the worst part? Carlos going through his heat alone? Being overwhelmed by heightened senses? His hope to please his mother? I love comments and feedback!
> 
> Also, if you enjoy this piece, be sure to follow me on Tumblr and check out my Jaylos ABO fic called Submission. bunny-lou.tumblr.com/tagged/submission


	2. Jay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 71 kudos on chapter 1? Thanks guys!

The entire school library has hundreds of books on greatest villains and the most nefarious plans and the greatest falls. Guidebooks on necromancy and extracting perfect revenge. There are novels on individual sidekicks and even a few fairytales with mockery and vulgarity written over the stories in pen. Books on controlling countries or people are along the back, self helps books of how to be more selfish or the most common mistakes to avoid are up front and there’s even a couple of books that tell Cruella’s story in great detail.

In the midst of all these books, Dragon Hall’s library has a whooping _three_ books on alphas, betas and omegas.

Three books. That’s it.

Luckily, Carlos has all of them right now.

One is missing the front and back cover and has been stapled together, another begins in the middle of a sentence because the first two chapters have been ripped off and the last one is small enough to fit into Carlos’ pocket, the ripped cover reading _How to Help Your Child When They Present_.

Three is better than none, but Carlos isn’t crazy enough to read them here, even if all the other students left before the last bell. The one missing the covers still has the title on the first page, _Will You Present as an Alpha, Beta or Omega?_ , and gets shoved in his weird science binder. The book without the first two chapter is completely titleless, but it was in between the other two on the shelf, so Carlos figures it must have something to do with the topic. He tucks it into one of his folders, behind his latest essay on why sidekicks are unreliable that is due next week. The final book, _How to Help Your Child When They Present_ is a hardback; Carlos looks at the selves and finds another hardback book with a cover – something about Snow White’s kingdom, he doesn’t pay attention to the title – and places the plastic wrap over his omega book, effectively shielding the title, and puts it in his bag.

Carlos double checks that he’s alone in the library before zipping up his bag and tossing it over his shoulder, exiting the library quietly.

It’s been nearly a month since he presented and has been able to get out of the house. Cruella had beat him once for not completing his chores and a second time after she realized he had been in her room. The bruises and damage done to his body, on top of the stress of just presenting _and_ going through a heat alone _and_ the days he had gone without food put Carlos in no position to move for quite a while.

Eventually though, he worked through the pain and got himself up and retrieved water. He ought into the marketplace nearly undetected with his quieter and smaller appearance and got food.

He has only presented recently, so there’s a grace period before his scent becomes noticeable, it’s hidden under all the different smells of the Isle. His house, where Cruella was familiar with and could sniff anything out of place, was more of a danger zone. Carlos is thankfully still too new to have a strong enough scent for her to notice.

Yet.

According to the few books, what little Carlos had read before hiding them all in his bag, scent blockers were a thing, but who the hell has those on the Isle?

No one.

Carlos pauses at the entrance of Dragon Hall and takes one more deep breath. Anger never got him anywhere. Neither did self-pity.

Perhaps it’s because he finally presented, but the Isle seems louder than usual, more chaotic. It has his head hurting, but Carlos has learnt to live with pain. Though he would prefer to go without it, which is why he’s headed to the marketplace again. The pain in his stomach hasn’t fully recovered after going so long without eating and once he gets back to Hell Hall, Cruella won’t let him leave again.

Villains snarl and a couple of men shout vulgarities at anyone who walks too near, but Carlos has a one track mind. He still has a few dollars hidden in his bag and the half-working batteries and a flashlight in his pocket, so he has something to trade the baker.

There’s a loaf that’s more mold than bread that Carlos offers the batteries for.

“Gotta give something better than that,” the baker sneers and turns back to another customer.

If Carlos were bigger and stronger and more intimidating, that would have been a good deal to the baker. But the man selling the bread towers over all the Isle kids and could throw Carlos over his shoulder without thinking about it, so there’s no point in arguing, but he’s not offering anything more for a bread that’s half inedible.

“Well, would you sell it to _me_ for a couple of batteries?”

Carlos turns to see another student from Dragon Hall behind him: Jay, Jafar’s son. He’s also an alpha, presenting at the perfect age of 11 and boasting about it to all the kids that wouldn’t present for another year or two.

The baker eyes Jay. “You got batteries?”

“Sure do,” Jay opens his palm to show…

“Hey!” Carlos bites, “those are mine!” He must have been so tired and overwhelmed that he hadn’t been keeping track of his belongings as well as he thought because in Jay’s hand are the two batteries, chipped and dull, that Carlos found in the barges weeks ago.

“They are?” Jay bats his eyes innocently, “then why are they in _my_ hand?”

Because Jay stole them, just like everything else.

The baker doesn’t care in the slightest and he’s more willing to work with Jay, who bigger and stronger and more intimidating than Carlos is. The batteries are traded for bread – a better loaf than what Carlos had asked for! – and Jay is perfectly happy.

“At least share some with me,” Carlos says as he follows Jay. “You bought it with my goods.”

“I bought it, so it’s mine,” Jay doesn’t even turn around to face him all the way, which is just degrading.

“Let me have some!”

“No.”

Carlos is fuming as he stalks behind Jay, nearly jogging to keep up with the alpha’s long strides. He hasn’t properly eaten in weeks and it’s making Carlos irritable. “Come on!” He reaches out and grabs Jay’s shoulder just so that he can’t be ignored anymore. The thief spins quickly and grips Carlos’ shoulders and shoves him backwards, one of Jay’s large black boots sweeping Carlos’ feet out from under him, so the younger boy trips and is sent sprawling to the pavement.

His backpack breaks his fall but _ow_.

“Whoops,” Jay gives a charming smile. Well, it would be charming if he weren’t showing off so many teeth, “you should watch where you’re going.” With a single hand and alpha strength, he lifts Carlos by the front of his shirt, dusting off his shoulders too roughly. “We done here?”

Carlos opens his mouth, fully prepared to argue and shout, but the ache in his back has him rethinking his attitude. “Yeah,” he swallows and looks away, “we’re done.”

“Don’t look so sad, runt,” Jay coos and throws an arm around Carlos’ shoulder, forcing the two of them to walk together when Carlos prefers to get the hell away. “It’s just the way of the Isle. Little dogs, like you,” Jay ruffles his hair and Carlos gasps, “just gotta submit to the big dogs, like me.”

The words and the affection stir within the omega’s stomach and he tries not to squirm under Jay’s arm. “You mean we get taken advantage of?”

“Pretty much. See, you get it!” Jay winks at him – another action that has Carlos’ face heating up – and spins him back around gracefully. “Later!”

“…Jerk,” Carlos whispers under his breath, not bothering to turn around and watch Jay leave. The thief may have taken the batteries, but he didn’t take the flashlight! Carlos still has something to trade for food. He reaches into his other pocket…

Yeah, Jay took the flashlight too.

Carlos huffs and shoves his hands in his pockets, even if he has nothing left to protect from bullies like Jay.

All he has left are the few dollars in his backpack, but actual currency doesn’t have much value on the Isle. The money has to get Carlos something to eat, no matter how small. He takes a look around the marketplace and ducks into an empty alley, going in just a few feet to have privacy but not so far back that he can be cornered. A deep, drawn out sigh escapes him and Carlos tries shrugging off his backpack, but freezes.

Where the hell is his backpack?

The weight of his bag is gone, the straining straps on his shoulder have disappeared. Where did it go?

Carlos nearly collapses. Forget about the money, _his omega books are in his bag_. And everyone knows which backpack is his, no one else has as much red, black and white as Cruella’s son. If someone found it, they would recognize it as his and when they went through it and discovered what he’s hiding…

A fretful whine escapes from his throat. Thank Hades he’s in an alley, isolated from everyone because that is not a noise betas make. (Carlos doesn’t think it is anyway, he’s never heard his mother make that noise. Though, he’s never heard Cruella make a noise that wasn’t in rage either.)

His backpack is gone, missing, could be anywhere in the market and found by anyone and if they see those books, Carlos’ life is over. Cruella will find out he’s an omega and she’ll auction him off every day to the highest bidder. He’ll get chased all over the Isle and people will grab him, strip him, force him to his knees. Carlos puts his hands to his throat, it’s hard to breathe with the swelling fear in his stomach. His life will be nothing but submitting to greasy, old villains and spreading his legs for anyone who asks his mother. How could he let this happen? How could he lose those books so easily?

A rumble in his chest is the only thing that breaks Carlos out of his nightmare. It’s as if his whole body is vibrating, a soothing, low sound coming from the back of his throat. He closes his eyes and tips his head back, focusing on whatever is happening right now.

What is this? What is he doing? What noise is he making?

It’s too soft to echo through the alley and it’s covered by the noises of the marketplace just feet away and it’s…nice. The sound is calming, easing his pounding heart. It’s low and consistent, the vibrations in his chest are a comforting distraction that has the tension fading from Carlos’ muscles.

He feels…drowsy and light headed, gently falling against the wall when his legs start to feel like jelly.

From his spot, Carlos watches the marketplace continue bussing with life. People trade and fight and have sex all within five steps of each other, just like always. They are loud and vicious and everything is exactly like normal.

The soft sound Carlos is making dies with his panic. The rumbling stops ionce he regains his breathing and sense of mind: his life isn’t over, not yet. Everything is the same right now, nothing has changed. As long as Carlos finds his bag, his life will be okay.

(As _okay_ as Carlos’ life can be.)

He had his backpack when he left the library and he’s certain he had it while leaving the school. Carlos never put his bag down, did he? He had it when talking to the baker because Carlos was going to hide the bread in there so Cruella wouldn’t see it when he got back, not that it mattered in the end since _Jay_ got the bread instead. And he had his backpack with Jay because it broke his fall when the thief tripped him. Then he had been picked up by the alpha who played with his hair and talked about Carlos _submitting_ to him, though Jay couldn’t have possibly _known_.

Carlos had been so flustered at the words and the casual touching though, even the memory brings a heat to his face. How could he allow _Jay_ of all people to distract him like that!

“That jackass!”

Without another moment to think, Carlos stalks out of the alley and off toward Jafar’s Junk Shop.

Of course Jay stole his backpack, that’s why he put his arms around Carlos and spun him so effortlessly, disorienting him just enough so that he wouldn’t notice the lost weight from his shoulders.

If Carlos were a _beta_ like he was _supposed to be_ , he would have noticed though. It was only the attention of alpha so close to him presenting that had him so dizzy.

Just something he better get used to and figure out how to work with, Carlos supposes.

Jafar’s Junk Shop is dingy and decrepit, just like the rest of the Isle, but it’s usually bussing with life. Today though, no one is standing outside trying to buy back their stolen goods.

When Carlos gets closer, he can hear why.

“I allow you to go to school and to wander out of the shop and _this_ is all you bring back? Food and bags? Where is the gold, the jewelry, the money? What am I to do with this?”

“Eat it!” That’s Jay’s voice, Carlos can recognize even without his heightened hearing. “So we don’t starve here!”

“Bread’s not getting me off the Isle!”

“It’ll keep you – _us_ alive though!”

There’s a sharp _crack_ that Carlos hears clearly. He’s just outside the door of the shop, not even properly closed.

“You watch your mouth,” Jafar hisses, and Carlos can tell that they’re in the front of the shop. “You don’t worry about _food_ , that’s not what you’re out there for! You worry about restocking the shelves better.”

Jay’s voice is a growl, deep and primal. “I can’t do that if-.”

Another _crack_ rings out and Carlos flinches from the sound of it.

“You want to challenge me again, _boy_?” Jafar snarls. “Answer me!”

“…No.”

“What was that?”

“No, _alpha_.”

Carlos holds his breath even though neither alpha knows he’s just outside.

“Watch the shop,” Jafar orders. “I’m going to count what I’ve made today.” His footsteps are heavy on the cement floor of his store, marching off and slamming a door.

Jay can either be more meek and less impulsive after being pushed to submit or he can be more irritated and less predictable.

Carlos debates if he ought to bother Jay right now because the bully is one of the people he tries to avoid daily. He thinks of the books at the bottom of his bag, of the abusive alphas on the Isle, of his mother finding out his secret and, with a deep breath, Carlos pushes open the door to Jafar’s Junk Shop.

There are tilted and warped shelves holding appliances that no longer work with signs guaranteeing their efficiency. Blenders and toasters on one wall, chipped jewelry on the other. The space under the shelves is filled with used goods as well – bins of clothes and trinkets spilling over – except for a single spot that is bare, save for a single rug underneath.

“Sup?”

Carlos jumps and spots Jay behind the counter, looking as nonchalant as ever with a lazy smile. He looks just as he did earlier, the only difference being a striking red handprint on his right cheek.

Jafar must be left handed.

No villain makes a good parent, Carlos knows, but he had never considered Jay’s life with Jafar before. Actually, he had never considered anything about Jay before.

It must be awful to have two alphas living under one roof, one having to suppress his dominance for the other. Jay must never get to embrace the alpha in him, constantly submitting to his father instead.

For one short instance, Carlos almost feels…pity. He’s been an omega for less than a month and suppressing his instincts is already a heavy weight to carry.

Jay must be used to it. He looks fine, at ease even, still grinning. “Got more shit in your pockets for me?” He waggles his brows and eyes the newest guest in the shop.

Carlos tries not to focus on the double entendre. “I think you have something for me, actually.”

The alpha doesn’t look at him any differently or make any comment, Carlos dares to hope that Jay hasn’t looked in his bag yet. “Nope,” Jay makes a show of opening his hands and looking around, “nothing for you.”

“You took my backpack.”

“Me? Taking something that doesn’t belong to me?” Jay looks hurt, “I would _never_.”

“You did!” Carlos closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “there’s not even anything in there you would want.”

“Must be something if you’re trying to get it back,” Jay leans forward on the counter, his weight resting on his elbows.

Carlos tries to look as collected as Jay does as he steps closer to the counter. “It’s just school stuff. I need my binders and folders.”

“What, like completed homework that I don’t have to do to anymore?” Jay whistles, “what a good haul!”

“I need it back.”

“Not my problem.”

Carlos clenches his fists and swallows. “What do you want to trade for it?”

“Why would I trade anything with you when I can steal from you any day of the week?” Jay rolls his eyes and pushes away from the counter, fully disinterested in the conversation.

“Where is it?” Carlos demands. He’s fully prepared to jump over the counter and find it. “I need it.”

Jay shrugs and goes back to shuffling things on the shelves. “Too bad.”

Before he can talk himself out of it, Carlos hops up on the counter and drops onto the other side gracelessly. Jafar had shouted about bread and bags, surely both are in this room?

“What are-?”

“A-ha!” Carlos finds his backpack stuffed into the shelves of the counter and clings to it. It’s still zipped up, confirming his hope that Jay hasn’t looked into it, he’s safe!

Well, he _was_ safe until his backpack is getting pulled away. “I told you, it’s mine now.”

While his strength is no match for an alpha, Carlos doesn’t let go. “No, it’s not!”

“Yes, it is!”

“It’s my bag!”

“I stole it!”

“Jay, let go!”

“ _You_ let go!”

“Stop being a child, it’s mine!”

“Not anymore!”

“You don’t understand!”

“Don’t care!”

“Let it go!”

“ _Drop it_!”

The sight of Jay’s narrowed eyes suddenly becomes the sight of Jay’s boots and a dull pain shoots through Carlos’ knees. His backpack between his fingers is replaced by the cool concrete in the shop and a chill works its way down his spine. Pale lips fall open as Carlos gasps again, his head foggy and mouth dry.

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.

It registers too late in his head that Jay said ‘drop _it_ ’ and not just ‘ _drop_ ’.

Carlos is kneeling in front of an alpha. He’s so stupid!

But, _evil_ , this feels so right.

“What…?”

His backpack falls to the ground with a _thud_ and Carlos jolts at the noise. He shoots back up, looking around wildly, but it’s just the two of them in the shop.

Jay, of course, has wide eyes and a hanging mouth.

Crap. Shit.

Carlos’ mouth opens and closes for a second before the first thing that pops into his head comes spilling out. “My mom likes for me to submit when she gets mad!”

That is way more information than he ever wanted to share with Jay, with _anyone_ , but it’s so much better than this alpha realizing an omega just knelt before him.

“You...what?”

Carlos feels his cheeks burn. “You just…sounded like,” _an alpha_ , “angry for a second. I…panicked.”

“Your _mom_ makes you submit to her?”

As humiliating as this is, Carlos is relieved to know _that_ is what Jay focuses on. “Sometimes, yeah. It…makes her feel like she still has power over someone.”

Jay looks at him, then turns over his shoulder to look at the door leading to whatever lays beyond the shop, then back to Carlos.

Oh. Right, of course Jay knows what it’s like to submit to someone.

“You heard before you came into the shop, didn’t you?” Just like that, the calm and cool Jay who roams the Isle casually is gone. His eyes are harder, his mouth in a firm line and arms crossed.

“Yeah,” Carlos looks away from the glare and runs a hand over his neck.

“Look, we’re not fuckin _bonding_ over this or anything stupid,” Jay snaps, “everyone here has shitty lives.”

“I know.”

“And if you tell anyone about what you heard,” Jay bares his teeth and steps closer, invading Carlos’ space. His dominance is overwhelming, to the point that Carlos has to grip the counter because the urge to sink to his knees again is so strong.

“I won’t,” he tips his head back to look up at Jay. “I promise.”

“Good.” Jay moves back and Carlos exhales.

“I really need my backpack back though,” he says quickly, “give me it and I’ll go right now!”

Jay looks suspiciously at him, then down at the backpack between them.

“I have a little bit of money,” Carlos offers, “it’s yours if you just let me take my bag back. You keep the money and just give me my books and stuff.”

“Whatever.” Jay picks the backpack up and waits with his arms crossed.

Carlos crushes the bag to his chest, relief sweeping over him once more. He unzips the bag, silently checks that one book is at the bottom, another is in his folder and the last is tucked away in his binder, then Carlos uncaps a single pen. He only has one because the pens that make it to the Isle never have any ink left, but he doesn’t have it for writing.

He pulls the end off of the pen and tips it over into his hand. The dollars, tightly rolled to fit inside the narrow pen, slip out in perfect cylinders. He won’t be able to buy any food, but he has his books back and everything is okay, so Carlos hands the money over to Jay.

“Wow, De Vil,” he laughs and unrolls the bills, “that’s clever.”

“Thank you,” Carlos says after a silent moment. He shifts and plays with the collar of his shirt, “are we good?”

“Yeah, we’re-. Holy shit,” Jay reaches into the bag before Carlos can zip it up and snatches a book. “You’re reading the history of Snow White’s kingdom? Why?”

_Damn it_.

Carlos freezes and watches in horror as Jay turns the book over in his hands, skimming the back and huffing at how dull fairy tales are. “Uh, yeah,” he can only whisper, “for f-fun.”

“You need to learn what fun is.” Jay rolls his eyes and hands the book back, clearly disinterested in it. The book passes from Jay’s steady hands into Carlos’ trembling ones. Evil, if Jay had _opened_ it and saw the true contents…

His hands are shaking so badly that Carlos drops the book as soon as the weight is fully in his palms. It drops to the ground, the cover slipping off in the process.

“Shit!” He reaches down to grab the book, to clutch it against his chest before Jay can see anything, but the alpha is faster.

“Here you… What?” Jay takes the book back and holds it out of reach from Carlos. “ _How to Help Your Child When They Present_?” He looks at Carlos. “You got a kid?”

“No!” Carlos shakes his head wildly, then nods, desperate for a lie. “Uh, yeah, actually, I do-!”

“Bull,” Jay scoffs and flips through the pages of the book, “you have no sex life. Why do you have this?”

The way he’s looking at Carlos, curious and suspicious, has the omega’s heart sinking. First he drops to his knees in a clear sign of submission, now he’s caught with a book about roles? Think, think, think!

“I, uh, research!”

“Research?”

“Yeah,” Carlos nods, “for my m-mo-mother. She, uh, she wants to fi-find an om-mega.”

Jay looks at him for a long time. “It sounds like you have a very weird relationship with your mom.”

A weird relationship with Cruella? The woman who would prostitute him in an instant? _Weird relationship_ doesn’t begin to cover it.

“Isn’t Cruella a beta? Why does she want an omega?”

Carlos shrugs, tries to look cool because it seems like Jay might actually be buying this lie. “You know, someone to, uh, submit better. She still likes that and it, um, well, it doesn’t come naturally to me because _I’m_ a beta too.”

“She’s got it easy,” Jay scoffs. “Betas don’t want submission like alphas do.” Absentmindedly, he reaches up to rub at his cheek, where the sting of his father’s hand has nearly disappeared.

“If you…” Carlos bites his lip and wrings his hands, “if you had an omega, what would you do?”

“Me?” Jay’s eyebrows shoot up and he purses his lips. He thinks about it for a long moment before responding. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve never thought about it since there are no omegas here.”

“Oh,” Carlos exhales. He’s not sure why he asked. Maybe because he wants to know what could be in store for him if Cruella ever finds out and starts to rent him to alphas or maybe because he enjoyed being on his knees before Jay a little too much. Maybe because the words Jafar had used in reference to Jasmine all those years ago still ring in Carlos’ ears and he needs to know if Jay is just like his father.

“I’d have someone to finally submit to me,” the alpha says after another moment. It looks as if he’s lost in thought. “Someone to kneel and claim. I’d have to bite them so no one else would fuck with them.”

“You wouldn’t let anyone else touch them?”

Jay looks appalled at the idea. “Dude, _no_. You have an omega, you keep them to yourself.”

“Like a slave,” Carlos grits his teeth and looks away.

“No, not a slave,” the older boy shakes his head. “Like…they’re mine and I don’t want to share.”

“Like bread?” Carlos deadpans.

To his surprise, Jay laughs. “Yeah, kind of,” he shrugs, “but, you know, I’d share food with my omega. Make sure they’re well fed and happy. You gotta provide for them so that they _want_ to submit to you.”

Carlos swallows. “You’d…take care of them? Care about what they wanted?”

“Why not?” Jay shrugs and leans against the counter, off in thought. “No point in having someone in your pack if they don’t want to be and you _gotta_ have an omega in your pack,” he grins.

“Why?”

Jay’s grin widens and he holds up the book, “the stereotype for omegas is that they all want to be fucked and used. I want that in my life.” He looks far too pleased at the idea.

“Well the stereotype for alphas is that they all want to…” Carlos huffs and spits, “ _fuck_ and use others!”

“That’s not just a stereotype,” Jay winks.

Carlos squirms. There’s a heat to his cheeks that he doesn’t understand. “So you think any omega would just want you because you’re so _suave_?”

“No, that’s why I would show that I can provide,” Jay puffs out his chest. “I have a shop I help run, I steal plenty of food, I’m stronger than most people on the Isle,” he flexes his stupid, ridiculous muscles that Carlos spends too long staring at, “then they’d _want_ to submit to me.”

“That’s…not what I expected of you,” Carlos bites his lip and shifts his weight. “That’s not the thought of most alphas on the Isle.”

“We’re not mindless beasts with no control,” Jay snaps so furiously that Carlos winces. “We’re not _rapists_ ,” he says with heated venom, narrowing his eyes and clenching his fists.

“Sorry!” Carlos squeaks, looking away and fiddling with his hair at the nape of his neck. “I-I-I didn’t mean…”

Jay steps away from him, a deep breath slowly filling his lungs. “It’s okay. I know _alphas_ mixed with _villains_ tend to not care about anything, I know the thought of most of them.” He turns around, looking once more at the door Jafar disappeared through not long ago.

“You don’t…consider yourself a villain?” Carlos asks. When he was younger, he had wanted to be a mad scientist, figure out a way to control the minds of dogs to protect himself and his mother, discover a way to lower the barrier. Now, he’s just a little more concerned with surviving.

“I didn’t say that,” Jay stands straighter and grins easily again. “I’m a bad ass rebel through and through,” he boasts. “And I’m an alpha. The whole dominance and submission thing?” Jay waggles his brows. “Yeah, we all _want_ that. It’s kind of what makes us alphas, but despite the idiots here, we can control ourselves. I’d provide so that I can have someone to release that tension with _willingly_.” He rolls his shoulders as if the weight were on him right now and Carlos thinks that it might be.

If Jay’s an alpha who has to submit to his father, what release does he have?

“Betas don’t crave anything like that, do you? You guys are pretty neutral for everything.”

Carlos isn’t really sure what betas crave anymore. “Yeah. We’re neutral. No desire to dominate or…or submit.”

“Damn, that must be nice,” Jay sighs and tilts his head back. “I wish I was a beta.”

Carlos bites his lip again because he’s wishing for the same damn thing.

\--

The list of what he will suffer through as an omega seems to be ever growing.

He’s read the three books, front to back, each twice, with a notebook beside him for scribbling notes. After he had finished all the chores (the scent of bleach used to clean the floors did _not_ make him sick this time and Carlos is grateful for small blessings) and snacked on what was left of Cruella’s dinner before doing the dishes, Carlos had settled down in his room, tucked away in the corner with the slightest bit of light coming in through the dirty window behind him. His mother is fast asleep and it must be getting close to morning, but Carlos won’t trust himself to have the books out any longer than necessary, so he must read them all now.

With his notebook in his lap, Carlos has a list of behaviors he should expect from himself as well as his little ideas of how to get around them.

The weird sensation in the alley earlier in the day, when he had freaked out about losing his backpack, was, _ugh_ , a _purr_. It’s mentioned in two of the books, though not much detail is given in either. It’s a calming mechanism for omegas, but Carlos doesn’t understand _how_ it works, _why_ the noise would soothe him.

When he builds and creates machines, like the generator he was working on before presenting distracted him, Carlos keeps them in the shade with water by him just in case. If a machine overheats, it needs to be cooled down and restored to a decent temperature. When Cruella screams that he’s being disrespectful, Carlos exposes his throat to her in a sign of vulnerability that she enjoys.

Now, when he’s stressed, he’s going to _purr_ (and Carlos tends to be stressed all the time) because some inane noise is meant to ease him.

Not that Carlos denies that it _worked_ in the alley, he just doesn’t understand _why_.

The books also mention a trait that Carlos doesn’t think he’ll ever have to worry about, but crinkles his nose at nonetheless: nesting. Omegas like to build nests, with blankets and pillows and clothing of their friends and family in order to surround themselves with familiar scents and comfort objects.

Carlos had done something similar in his heat, he remembers. He had cuddled one of Cruella’s shirts and held it with him for a while, seeking comfort in the smell of his mother. It hadn’t worked, of course, because while Cruella is familiar, she’s not comforting. No one in Carlos’ life is comforting.

He has a single pillow on his mattress and sleeps under one of his jackets at night. There are no pillows or blankets or clothing from loved ones that Carlos can have and make into a nest, which relaxes him. He has nowhere in Hell Hall to build a nest, let alone hide one from Cruella, so Carlos doesn’t worry about that.

The best thing about the books, the most helpful aspect, is that they talk about _suppressants_. Carlos had heard the word once or twice, never needed to worry about something so trivial when he thought he was a beta, but now they sound like magic.

Suppressants are designed to, well, _suppress_. They suppress heats and natural scents, the urge to submit and kneel, the need to purr and build nests. They can make omegas act like betas, smell like betas too.

They could make his life so much easier.

But suppressants are a type of medicine, something that is unheard of on the Isle.

Carlos taps his pencil against the paper. He has chemicals, in his tree house and in the science labs, if he could just figure out what went into a suppressant, he could _try_.

His next heat shouldn’t be for another two months, but the thought has Carlos sealing his lips shut and fighting down the urge to purr again.

\--

He doesn’t know what he expected of Jay after their ‘ _not fucking bonding_ ’ moment in Jafar’s Junk Shop, but Carlos had almost hoped it would lead to nothing different. After all, it was Jay’s words that their shared trouble weren’t a means of growing closer to… _friends_ , so Carlos figured life would be the same as usual, if just a little strange for a bit.

But he’s coming out of the library – successfully putting back the three books after Carlos had absorbed every bit of information that he could because he’s not risking his mother finding them or, hell forbid, another incident of someone stealing his backpack – when he runs right into Jay.

“Do you go _anywhere_ else besides the library and school?”

“You just saw me in the marketplace yesterday.”

Jay rolls his eyes and looks down the hallways. The two of them are alone and the fact that Jay was checking to ensure no one else is around has Carlos panicked. “Here.”

Carlos blinks and looks down to where Jay has shoved a loaf of bread into his hands. It’s the same one he bought yesterday with the batteries he stole from Carlos and only missing a few slices. “You…what?”

The alpha shrugs, but doesn’t meet his eyes. “No one in my house was going to eat it.”

Jafar had been less than impressed with the food, Carlos remembers. He takes the bread and holds it to his chest. “Why wouldn’t you just sell it in the shop?”

Jay narrows his eyes and Carlos almost shrinks back into the library. “If you don’t want it, I’ll do just that,” he holds out his hand, waiting for Carlos to return the food.

“No! No, uh, I’ll take it,” Carlos keeps the loaf close and tries not to squash it in his tight grasp. “I’ll keep it.”

“Good,” Jay puffs his chest out and looks rather pleased with himself.

Carlos flushes at the implication that Jay is using him as an outlet for the desires he has suppressed. He’s providing for Carlos, showing he can support and be depended on, even if Jay doesn’t know he’s giving food to an omega.

He wonders if Jay realizes what he’s doing – giving into an alpha urge he’s never indulged in before – and when Carlos notices Jay watching him sneak the food into his backpack, Carlos thinks Jay is perfectly aware of the reason for his generosity.

And the idea of an alpha _using_ him for their own primal longing has Carlos swallowing heavily and trying to fight the heat in his face.

Weeks pass by without much difference. Jay doesn’t steal from him anymore, but he also doesn’t offer Carlos anymore food either. Sometimes Jay winks at him in the halls or convinces Mal to terrorize someone else when she looks at Carlos like she might want to sink her nails into him, but they aren’t… _friends_.

Carlos doesn’t have any friends.

At least, not until the new girl comes to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, fun chapter! Carlos is beginning to experience some of the strange desires that come with being an omega, he learns that not all alphas are alike and he may be crushing on Jay just the slightest bit!
> 
> I'm sure the hints in this chapter, especially the end, made it clear who the next chapter focuses on.
> 
> Please tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, what you'd like to see and just any thoughts in general for this story!


	3. Evie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 111 kudos on the first two chapters? Thanks guys!

“I wish I was an omega.”

Carlos drops the screwdriver in his hands and it clatters to the floor, not that anyone notices over the low roar of the classroom. “Wh-what did you just say?” He turns slowly, not daring to breathe, and looks up at Evie.

She’s beautiful, so stunning it nearly hurts his eyes to take in her brightness. She is graceful and petite and gentle, having never experienced the grittiness of the Isle while locked away in her castle. After her first day of _freedom_ (and Carlos had never met a person who considered the Isle to be freedom) and being rejected by everyone for their fear of Mal, the mock princess had found friendship in Carlos.

Her logic was that neither of them had friends in Dragon Hall – Carlos because people tend to pick on him and Evie because Mal’s petty enough to hold a grudge from years ago – and therefore were a perfect match for each other.

Carlos doesn’t want _friends_ though.

Well, he does…maybe. On some level.

But he can’t risk them. Evie has taken to sitting with him for every class and for lunch, even extending an offer to have dinner at her castle, though he hasn’t taken her up on it yet. No one has ever invited Carlos anywhere.

Evie likes to do things like hold his hand and play with his hair, but she picked up very quickly that Carlos didn’t appreciate the gestures.

Well, he does…maybe. On some level.

But he can’t risk them. The closer Evie stays by him, the more of his scent she’ll pick up and he can’t have that. Surely, she’d smell him and realize what he is and she could be horrified or disgusted or…any number of things, really.

She helps cover his scent though. Evie us a beta – a fact she despises. Really, there are a lot of things Evie hates about herself – and her constant attention on him helps mask Carlos’ omega scent with her own. It makes him uncomfortable though. Having someone talk to him and ask him questions is so frustrating, Carlos doesn’t enjoy it.

Well, he does…maybe. On some level.

Okay, _fine_ , so Evie offers friendship and affection and attention, things Carlos never thought he would want in his life because he had never experienced them, but neither had Evie. They were both isolated their whole lives and Carlos clings to Evie as much as she does to him. He’s just better at hiding it.

Carlos is becoming quite good at hiding just about everything.

So there’s no way that Evie figured out…

He gulps.

“What?” She tilts her head, curious of his trembling lips and wide eyes. “I just like the idea of being an omega, don’t you?” Then Evie shakes her head, blue curls bouncing over her shoulders. “Of course you don’t. _You_ don’t need to find a prince.”

“You…what?” Carlos tries to keep his voice low. They always sit in back (that way, no one can jump them from behind) and the class is too chaotic for anyone to pay them mind, but he can’t let Evie pick up on his panic.

“Finding a prince,” she pouts. “If I were an omega, it would be so easy to submit and just _naturally_ want to please him. And omegas are always cute and soft and dainty,” Evie sighs and looks as if she’s drifting far away from the classroom. “They always make better princesses.”

Well, first off, that’s bullshit. Carlos is not _cute_ or _soft_ or _dainty_. Yes, he’s smaller and younger than most of his classmates thanks to being skipped ahead several grades ago, but that doesn’t mean he’s any of those things! He’s due for a growth spurt – which may never come at the rate Carlos eats – and his hands have callouses from tinkering. He has muscles from the heavy work of his chores and textured skin with a multitude of scars.

Evie, though…Evie is all those things. She’s more than cute, she’s _gorgeous_ and she’s more than soft, she’s _delicate_ and she’s more than dainty, she’s _elegant_.

It blows his mind that people in Dragon Hall scorn her and that Mal looks at Evie likes she’s scum. But if Mal hadn’t taken to making Evie’s life hell, the princess probably never would have taken a liking to someone like him.

Carlos squirms in his seat. He’s only been…acquaintances, or friends, whatever they are, with Evie for a few weeks now, but after going his whole life alone, he grown to like her very much and he even _cares_ for her.

It’s the damn omega in him. Carlos curses himself again.

“I mean, I’m glad that _you’re_ happy with being a beta,” Evie reassures him and he breathes easier. “I just wish I was an omega sometimes.”

“You wouldn’t last on the Isle,” Carlos huffs. He doesn’t even think he’ll last. He’s quite amazed he’s kept his role a secret for so many months already, but Cruella is due to figure it out and end his life.

“I know,” Evie murmurs and even though Carlos logically knows he’s on borrowed time, her agreeance still hurts, “it would just be nice to attract a prince like that. Or anyone.”

Too bad Carlos isn’t interested in attracting princes.

Right now, his goal in life is to survive.

He’s figuring out this whole _omega_ thing by himself. The books were helpful in very broad topics. He would go through his heat every three months, crave dominance, become more submissive in his behavior. The last one, Carlos doesn’t fret much about. After living with Cruella, he is the definition of submissive and, again, he wonders if Cruella’s abuse and rage played into him presenting as an omega.

Speaking of Cruella, this will be the first time his scheduled heat will come by with her in the house and Carlos is kind of panicking about it.

His efforts to create a suppressant for himself hadn’t produced anything in time for his second heat. Carlos had taken a look at his crummy but functioning generator and wandered over to the goblins on the other side of the Isle one early morning.

“It’s yours,” Carlos had promised the goblin behind the desk, “for a couple of spa treatments.”

“Pretty boys like you always come to us sooner or later,” she hissed, but took out a pen nonetheless. “When can we schedule you?”

Bristling at the thought of being a ‘ _pretty boy_ ’, Carlos had scowled. “It’s not for _me_. It’s for my mother, Cruella De Vil. I need her to be with you guys the last week of this month and then the last week of September and then the last week of-.”

“Hold up,” the goblin spat, saliva flying from her mouth onto Carlos’ hand over her calendar. “You want _three_ _full-week_ spa treatments for that hunk of junk?”

Carlos had turned as red as his jacket. “It’s not junk, it works and will give you guys power when the electrical lines here fail.”

“Not worth three full weeks. You can have two.”

“Fine. The end of this month and the last week of September.”

“Great,” the goblin sneered. “We look forward to it.”

As if _anyone_ looked forward to being around Cruella.

But it had bought him two more heats, six more months, to figure out how to get his hands on some suppressants.

It also bought him a cigarette to the ear and a heel to his temple when Cruella assumed that her son wanted her gone for a week so he could go back to fucking his girlfriend in her mansion.

Carlos is wracking his brain trying to figure out suppressants. They don’t even need to work all the way, they just have to suppress his scent; he’ll deal with the pain and stress of a heat as long as no one else can tell what he’s going through. He has a slew of chemicals taken from Yen Sid’s science lab, old medications from the barges and trial and error.

The second heat had been awful. With every combination Carlos tried, it left him sick. He tried random medicines he picked up from the barges with chemicals to stimulate testosterone that left him vomiting, then some pills to suppress ruts in alphas mixed with minor acids to cover his smell and had Carlos trembling so badly, he couldn’t move for the rest of his heat.

His third trial, the last one he could have with a guarantee Cruella would be gone, had gone a little smoother. Different combinations of medicines found in trash cans and liquids from the science labs didn’t take away his heat, but it did lessen the affects. The pitiful whining and aching cramps had subsided after a day, but the haziness was still there.

Next month will be Carlos’ fourth heat and time really flies, doesn’t it? If he can’t figure out a suppressant and heat five comes around, it will make one year since he presented.

But if he can’t successfully hide his fourth heat from Cruella, quick time will be the least of his worries.

“Hello, Carlos?” Evie’s voice drifts in his ear, “the bell rang!”

He startles out of his thoughts and pushes his chair back. Students are filing out quickly, eager to go out and begin their Raising Hell project out on the Isle, which Carlos hasn’t even begun to think about. It might be the first project he fails.

“You’re absolutely coming over for dinner tonight.” Evie tells him as they walk down the hall, narrowly evading wandering hands and leering eyes.

And dine with the Evil Queen? “No thanks.”

“Carlos!” Evie groans his name and grabs his wrist, her fingers long enough to encircle his thin bones, “you _must_.”

His head always gets hazy when Evie grabs him, especially on his wrist where he’s most sensitive to touch. “I’m…okay. Really.”

“When was the last time Cruella fed you?”

“I can feed myself.”

“Or you can let me feed you!” Evie chirps and pulls him along. “You can test out my cooking and give me feedback!”

The idea of decent meal after his stressful month is quite tempting, but Carlos has work to do. He has to figure out a good combination for a suppressant and he has less than a month to figure it all out. “Sorry, Evie, but I-.”

“ _Please_ , Carlos? My mother’s been awful all week, please come keep me company.” She bats her eyes and sticks her bottom lip out, a full pout with even a little trembling.

Crap.

“Okay,” he swallows, “I’ll stay for dinner.”

* * *

Evie’s a fantastic cook. She puts Carlos to shame effortlessly.

“All about being a good housewife,” she says as she sets the table, refusing to let Carlos help.

It irks him, just a bit, for a beta to serve him, but Carlos has had months fighting down the urge that bubbles up for him to submit and please. He just smiles.

“It’s just you and I tonight!” She sets a candle on the table, not that they have a working lighter or matches that are ever dry enough to salvage on the barges, but it’s a nice decorative piece. “My mom’s upstairs.”

“She’s not joining us?” If Carlos had known that, he might have been less shaky on the way over.

“No,” Evie settles a torn napkin in her lap, “she’s in her rut.”

Both of their rusted silverware clatter to the table at the same time.

“ _What_?”

Evie cover her mouth with her hands. “Shit. I wasn’t supposed to say that. Oh, shit,” she puts a hand to her forehead and closes her eyes. “Ten years of confinement to my castle kind of left me without a filter.”

“ _Rut_ ,” Carlos repeats back, “your mom’s an alpha?”

Shit, shit, shit, shit. He can’t be in the same house as an alpha in rut, the Evil Queen could smell him out in a minute!

“She’s upstairs with her door locked,” Evie says before Carlos can run from the table, “she won’t let herself out for the rest of the week. Ugh, my big, stupid mouth.” Her shoulders slump forward and she finally opens her eyes. “ _Please_ don’t tell anyone.”

Now that he thinks about it, Carlos doesn’t recall reading anything about the Evil Queen’s role. She could have been anything, he never cared to study up on her. People who tried to kill weaker kids were pretty common on the Isle, Carlos never wanted to read about those villains as well as live with them.

“Carlos, please?” Evie nearly whispers. “She’d hate me for forever if she knew I told someone.”

“I won’t,” he promises. “I definitely won’t, but does everyone just assume she’s a beta?”

Evie relaxes and nods. “Yeah. People don’t typically think _alpha_ when they think of queens. And she’s been hiding away with me in here,” she gestures to the empty castle, “for so long that people kind of forgot about us.” There’s no sadness in her voice, just resignation. “When we got to return to the Isle, people assumed she was a beta.”

Carlos tries to casually sniff the air while he sips his water, but Evie catches on and laughs at him.

“You can’t smell it,” she brushes his hand. “My mother’s on suppressants usually.”

He chokes on his drink. “Suppressants?”

Evie reaches around to pat his back. “Yeah. Suppressants are normally these pills that alphas can take to suppress their ruts.” She explains because she has no idea that Carlos’ whole life has been about suppressants for the past six months. “She made a potion though for hers with what she has left over from her days of royalty and what we can find on the Isle and it’s enough to stifle her natural,” Evie’s voice drops to a whisper, “alpha scent.”

“A potion?” Carlos asks before he can catch his breath. He had never thought of a potion, he had only been consuming raw materials. Ingredients in a potion could be steeped or drained or diluted.

“Yes, but without magic of course. Are you alright?”

“Fine!” Better than fine, actually! “How do you make it?”

Evie tilts her head at him. “The potion? Well, we use some of the materials she’s had left over from being queen. She didn’t bother with suppressants until recently, when we came out of hiding, so her old stash hasn’t been used until this year.” Evie puts a finger to her chin and thinks. “We extract natural scents from fruit and flowers sometimes. Our garden in the back isn’t much, but it’s something.”

He needs his notebook, he needs to write this all down. “What else?”

“Why so curious?” Evie studies him. She doesn’t divert her gaze until he squirms and she takes a bite of her wilted salad. “You’re not an alpha and neither is Cruella.”

“Science,” Carlos nods quickly. “Scientific purposes.”

“You’re not going to tell anyone, right?” Evie looks at him through her peripheral vision. “I mean it, Carlos. No one can know about this. My mother would be devastated.”

If only she knew how well he is at keeping secrets. “I promise.”

Dinner finishes and Evie talks about her ideas for their Raising Hell project. She pouts and drops her shoulders at the subject, insisting Mal already has something grand and wicked that will upstage everyone else. Evie kind of has an obsession with the girl who led to her banishment. She talks about fashion and gossip she’s overheard, which teachers she hates and which make her skin crawl.

Carlos offers little to the conversation. His blood is thrumming under his skin, has he potentially found a way to make suppressants?

They finish eating and Carlos jumps to clear the table, though Evie insists he mustn’t help. “You’re my guest, just relax!”

She busses around the table and in the kitchen easily, working quickly and humming to herself. She’d be a good wife, Carlos thinks, which is exactly what Evie wants for herself, what she aspires to be. She’s an excellent beta: gentle and stable, warm and welcoming. Any prince would be lucky to have her. Evie will be a part of a wonderful pack some day.

“Where do you make her potion?” Carlos asks when she finishes.

“The one for her ruts?” Evie dries her hands on a towel and thinks back to the conversation that ended nearly thirty minutes ago. “Usually in the back room so no company will ever see it. Why?”

“Can I…can I see it?” He asks timidly. “For science!”

“You’re such a nerd,” Evie says, but she sounds fond and doting rather than cruel and mocking. “It’s nothing big, just some old stuff.”

Carlos clasps his hands together. “Please, Evie? I’d love to see it and study the chemicals you have!”

She smiles at him and obliges after a small hesitation. For a fleeting second, Carlos feels guilty. Evie might be doing this because he’s her only friend and she wants to keep him happy. Is he using her? Manipulating her loneliness?

A heavy stone drops in his stomach and Carlos shakes his head. He doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to hurt Evie either, but he’s just going to look!

They stop in front of a dark door, hidden behind the staircase. Evie glances at him, then at the door, pushing it open with stilled breath.

It’s nothing grand, like Carlos expected. The room that could potentially save his life from Cruella’s damnation is plain, rather boring to the rest of the castle. There are books and a single desk, shelves holding bowls and cups along the walls and a bare, flickering bulb hangs from the ceiling.

“She taught me how to make it because she was so afraid that I would be an alpha too,” Evie says softly, leading him into the room. “But I was lucky. Well, luckier than her.” She huffs and folds her arms. “She became queen as an alpha, but she thinks I’ll never get a prince because I’m a beta.”

“You’ll get a prince,” Carlos mumbles, but he’s not fully listening to Evie. Where does he even begin to look?

“These were her trials,” Evie gestures to a notebook, “when she had to figure out what to use and how much, back before she perfected the recipe.”

“What,” Carlos clears his throat, “goes into it?”

She floats over to the desk, pulling open the drawers and gesturing the objects on the shelves. “We crush up her old suppressants before she was banished to the Isle so that they last longer. Then we add some of…”

Carlos has an excellent memory. He dedicates every ingredient to his mind, the quantities and directions, the length of time it would take for all of this.

Change a few things up to cater to his omega biology and he might actually have a form of suppressant.

“Second time today you’ve drifted off,” Evie sings. “Are you still here with me?”

Carlos nods his head. “Yeah, sorry, I’m listening.”

She steps closer and looks into his eyes. “You’re not usually so flighty. Are you sleeping well?”

“As well as I can in Hell Hall,” Carlos snorts. “Winter has not been kind.” He was supposed to have a heater for the season, but getting Cruella away for his heats took precedence and the generator he spent so long on is now at the spa.

“How many blankets do you have?” Evie asks and narrows her eyes.

“Um, Cruella has a couple.”

“How many do _you_ have?”

Carlos looks away from her and scuffs his boot on the floor. “I don’t.”

He hasn’t explicitly said how Cruella treats him, but Evie has picked up on a lot. She’s excellent at reading people and understands his reclusive behavior was taught to him by someone much bigger and more frightening. Evie knows Cruella doesn’t feed him or provide anything; she knows that Carlos takes care of himself and their home and he has done so for as long as he can remember.

“Wait here!” The princess says and nearly leaves, but looks back at him again. “Right here. Don’t move,” then she’s off.

There was a clear order in her voice, as commanding as betas can get, that has him feeling warm and giddy, but Carlos assumes he can move around the room at least.

The supplies here must have taken _years_ to gather – the old, thrown out medicines are scattered over the room and Carlos assumes the Evil Queen paid servants to retrieve the drugs for her back when she wasn’t allowed to leave The Castle Across the Way. The stash is impressive, clearly the work of a decade at least.

Carlos has less than a month to get it all for his own heat. Then he has to figure out how to tweak it for an omega instead of an alpha. And take it early enough to prevent his next heat. He’ll never have the time.

Oh shit. He’s a bad person.

Without another thought, Carlos tears through the drawers and shelves, snatches what he can fit in his pockets. He has the recipe memorized, so he pays it no mind, but the little bottle with pills prescribed to _Queen Grimhilde_ gets opened and he shakes a few of them into the palm of his hand, glancing at the ingredients on the side. He takes the flowers that are used to hide natural scents and the carefully labeled chemicals that are in cracked vials.

Carlos doesn’t take _everything_ , just what he thinks he’ll need. It’s less than half of the materials because a few of these things he already has in his treehouse, but he never had an idea of how to use them for suppressants. Now he does though. He has a chance at making his own suppressant.

His pockets are full with chemicals and pills and dry goods and his excitement and relief overpower his guilt.

When he steps out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him, Evie rushes up to him. “I told you to stay in there!” She hisses with a pout, but quickly moves on. “These are for you.”

In her arms are a blanket, plush and soft, and a pillow that’s ripped along one edge. Balancing on top, in a chipped dish, is part of their meal.

“You have a blanket and a pillow and food for this weekend,” Evie says with a grin, dumping it all into his arms. She puts her hands on her hips, brilliant smile in place as Carlos cradles the blanket to his chest. “You’ll be all set.”

“Why…?” Carlos can’t find the words to form. No one has given him this much before. No one has given him bedding, let alone bedding this nice. “Just, _why_?”

Evie purses her lips and takes a deep breath, her smile growing sad but not dim. “You were the only person at Dragon Hall to not scorn me. You’re the only person who spoke to me. Carlos,” she places a hand on top of his, “when I meet my prince and we form our own pack…you’re going to be a part of it,” she promises. “I’m going to make sure of it.”

The heat on his face travels down his neck and up to his ears. Carlos can’t even speak. He never thought he’d ever have a pack of his own, even before he presented.

Yet, here is this amazing beta who is gifting him and taking care of him, ensuring his future safety and home with her.

“We’re going to take care of each other. You and I, we’re a team.” Evie rocks on her heels before pressing forward to kiss his nose. “Let’s get you back. Cruella could wake the dead with her screaming when you’re not back on time.”

Carlos isn’t a bad person.

He’s a _terrible_ person.

* * *

Carlos stays up for two days in his tree house, pouring over notes and chemicals and his memory of the recipe written in the Evil Queen’s elegant scrawl. He adds less flowers to mask his scent and more of old coffee grinds from the Slop Shop, lets an alpha suppressant dissolve in water and adds some dry chemicals to it.

It takes time and effort and thought, but Carlos takes the first dose of his suppressant just two days later. He doesn’t feel different or special or any kind of effect except for a sharp pain in his stomach. It’s not the same ache from his heats, it’s dulled in comparison, but it’s there nonetheless.

Well, that’s what he gets for putting drugs into his body and messing up his biological functions.

That’s what he gets for being an omega.

The suppressant has been in his system another couple of days when Evie storms up to him in front of Dragon Hall on Thursday morning and slaps him. Hard.

The suppressant must be working though because Carlos doesn’t want to kneel or bare his throat at her rage. The desire to submit in order to soothe isn’t as strong as usual.

“You _jerk_ ,” Evie spits. Her violence toward him had drawn some eyes over to them, but she keeps her voice down. “How could you?”

After the weekend had passed when he first stole the Evil Queen’s supplies and Evie had held his arm Monday morning, Carlos thought he may be in the clear. Maybe he didn’t take as much as he thought, maybe his stolen good were so few that Evie and her mother would never notice. “What are you-?”

“Don’t you dare!” Evie seethes and points a finger in his face. Her eyes smolder, the rage barely contained under dark brown irises. “Don’t lie to me, you were the only person I’ve ever let in there!”

Carlos ducks his head, but it’s not from the want to please and calm her fury. “Evie, I’m so-.”

“No you’re not!” She shoves him in his chest with enough force that Carlos stumbles back. “I can’t believe you would do that! I think I find the one person on the Isle who…who might be _good_ ,” she spits the word like venom, “who might not belong here! I thought you were my…” Her lips tremble around the word.

“I am! I was! I still am,” Carlos says. He knew stealing from Evie would have consequences, he’s prepared for them. “You don’t understand, I needed them.”

“ _For science_?” She mocks and he winces. “You… Was it all a lie? Were you nice to me just to get something from me?”

“No! Evil, _no_!” Carlos waves his hands. He hates that mindset that Evie has, the one that is no doubt the work of the Evil Queen. Evie never thinks people will like her for herself – they like her looks, her skills, her possessions, her body. She’s convinced no one would be around her just for _her_. “You were – you _are_ my first friend!” It’s the first time he’s said it out loud and Carlos doesn’t know how he feels about the word anymore. “You’re clever and funny and you’re nice,” he whispers because _nice_ is the same thing as _vulnerable_ on the Isle.

“And you’re a huge asshole,” Evie snaps. Her eyes are wet and she blinks rapidly, taking care to not ruin her mascara. “I never want to see you again!”

Which isn’t really possible when they both live on an island and go to the same school.

By the time lunch comes around, the sting in his cheek has faded but the sting of Evie’s words has not. Carlos tries to talk with her in class, but she moves far away from him. He writes her a lengthy apology and sends it over as an airplane, but she crushes it with her heel. He grabs her hand in the hallway, but she whirls around and leaves a second handprint on his cheek.

At least she doesn’t use the back of her hand, like Cruella does. Evie’s rings look like they would tear his face apart.

There is one and only one other thing she says to him, in the back of Weird Science because Yen Sid won’t let her trade seats. “You can keep the blanket and pillow,” Evie huffs at the end of the lecture, “if it’s touched _you_ , I don’t want it back.”

Her words cut deep, slice into his heart in a way that hasn’t happened since he was young and still convinced his mommy might love him.

“Hey, if I’m the dirtiest thing it’s touched on the Isle, it’s not that bad.” Carlos tries to laugh because Evie usually liked it when he smiled, but she acts as if he hasn’t spoken.

He gets through classes by pinching the palm of his hand hard enough to bruise. His suppressants aren’t strong enough, not yet at least, because his chest is rumbling, the low purr of his anxiety covered by the volume of his classmates.

Carlos gulps, recites the periodic table to calm himself because he can’t rely on the purr, no matter how soothing the noise is. He can’t risk someone hearing it, even though without Evie by his side, he’s completely alone again.

The next week is spent throwing himself into his chores and drawing out the suppressant supplies to last as long as possible. Evie refuses to speak to him no matter what he does, the few times she glances at him are infuriated glares that are still beautiful.

He misses her so much.

“Mr. De Vil!”

He stops from running out of the school Friday afternoon at the voice of Dragon Hall’s principal. “Yes, Dr. Facilier?”

The tall man walks up to him, goes as far as to place an arm around Carlos’ shoulder in…a friendly way? “I must tell you I was quite impressed with your Raising Hell project.”

“My…what?”

“Don’t be so modest, my boy,” the shadow man pulls Carlos along with him and they pass a few students in the halls who glare at the attention Carlos gets. Mal, with Jay by her side, bares her teeth at him in what is sure to be jealousy. She’s always so weird about other people getting praise.

Not like it’s his fault! Carlos didn’t finish his Raising Hell project. He never even _started_ it.

“Taking out an entire business like that?” Dr. Facilier chuckles. “I wouldn’t have ever expected that to come from you, but I heard the goblins complaining about it.”

“Complaining about…what?”

“The generator you gave them all those months ago – I must know how you made one, by the way – you must have been planning this project the whole school year and timed the explosion just right!”

“Explosion?!”

Dr. Facilier pats his shoulder. “There were no casualties, I’m afraid, but that’s just room for improvement. The goblins said when your generator exploded on them, it shot the roof off of their silly spa! They said they saw electricity shot all the way to the dome of the barrier!”

Damn. A whole year’s worth of work and it exploded after only six months? At least it wasn’t in Hell Hall.

“Wretched work, my boy, wonderfully damaging! You’ll pass with flying colors.” With that, Dr. Facilier pats him on the back and moves down the hall, critiquing students and faculty alike while Carlos just shrugs.

A free _A_? He’ll take it.

Maybe Evie hates him and maybe she will for forever, but Carlos has some fond memories to look back on as he goes back to being a loner. Maybe the suppressants are really starting to irritate his stomach and cause some serious pain, but his grades are good and his suppressants can actually work well enough to prevent this upcoming heat. Maybe he can actually survive as an omega on the Isle.

He’ll miss Evie though. She’ll never speak to him again.

Well, that’s what Carlos thinks until a loud pounding at the door has him nearly jumping out of his skin later that afternoon.

No one ever comes to Hell Hall; guests are unheard of here so Carlos is baffled to who it might be. The oven is scrubbed, furs are fluffed and the halls have been swept. He must still mop and wax the floor and iron Cruella’s clothes, so he doesn’t quite have time for distractions.

The door swings open before Carlos can reach it and he jumps back.

He spots brilliant blue first and his heart relaxes at the sight of Evie, but she’s not alone. In fact, she’s in the back of the group; Carlos is so used to seeking her out that he had found her before even looking at the others.

Jay is present as well, looking around Hell Hall in curiosity, which isn’t too bad. He hasn’t stolen from Carlos since that day in Jafar’s Junk Shop, but they’re not friends. A quiet understanding has settled between them, but Jay is… _unpredictable_ , Carlos deems.

Up front, looking as if she’d rather be scrubbing toilets than on his front step, is Mal. She petrifies Carlos to his core. She is just a bit taller than he is, which is fair since she’s older, and has a knack for starting fights with her fists and ending them with her knives.

“H-hi.”

“Shut up,” Mal snaps and he does. She presented as an alpha not too long ago – a late bloomer like Carlos since Maleficent never properly fed her – and she uses it to her advantage constantly. “What did you do to the barrier?”

“I didn’t do-!”

“Cut the shit,” she snarls and his mouth closes immediately. “There was a hole in the barrier last night.”

“That’s not poss-.”

“ _Shut. Up_ ,” Mal stalks into the room. “I know it’s not. But it happened and it let in just a teeny bit of magic around the Isle. Apparently the runt of the island had something to do with it. I heard about your generator blowing up and reaching the dome,” she lifts a brow, “what did you do to it?”

Carlos looks at her.

“You can speak now.”

“The goblins m-muh-must have sp-spilt something on it,” he says. “It should have worked for at least a year if they treated it better.” Carlos had been certain the suppressants were working, but maybe they can be overridden because he aches to be on his knees right now. Two alphas are in his home and their scents are making him dizzy, he needs to get them out.

“Well whatever happened, we need it to happen again.”

“ _We_?”

Mal jerks her head in the direction of Jay and Evie. “The four of us. We’re going to get my mother’s scepter.”

“ _Why_?”

“To get off the Isle. I thought you were supposed to be smart,” Mal rolls her eyes and huffs. “You’re coming with us. I need to know what you did to break through the barrier and we have to get to the other side of the Isle.”

As much as Carlos would love to tell Mal to buzz off, he doesn’t. Mostly because pissing off Mal is a death wish and partly because he still hasn’t refused an alpha…or anyone really. Saying _no_ doesn’t work well for him a lot.

But…his heat is supposed to start in just a few days. Carlos is sure the suppressants are enough – he’s taking so many doses that his stomach is really starting to hurt, but if they don’t work and he’s here, in Hell Hall, when his heat hits, there will be no hiding it from Cruella.

If the suppressants don’t work, he needs to be as far away from his mother as possible. Even if it means being with Mal, Evie and Jay and letting them…do whatever alphas and betas do with an omega in heat. He doesn’t want to think about that.

Just as long as Cruella doesn’t know.

“Okay,” Carlos gulps.

* * *

The trip is long and stressful and quiet. Jay and Mal make most of the conversation while Carlos is too nervous to speak and Evie has no desire to be near him.

They sleep outside, which isn’t half bad when his usual bed is suffocated in furs. Carlos offers his jacket to Evie so she’s not on the dirt, but she glares at him. He’s not sure why she’s here too.

Jay and Mal sneak off to plot whatever it is they’ll do when the barrier’s down. Carlos hasn’t considered what he’ll do. Maybe he can run away from Cruella? Maybe he’ll have access to proper suppressants? Maybe he could be more than an omega who spreads his legs and gets on his knees for everyone.

The stirrings of a heat haven’t hit him yet, but Carlos is so distracted with this trip and the company that he probably wouldn’t notice if it did. If he goes without a heat, the suppressants work and he has enough of a supply to last for a while and even when he runs out, at least Carlos will know what he needs to make more.

“Can you stop thinking so loudly?” Evie groans at him. “I can hear your wheels turning from over here.”

He’s been shifting a lot on the ground and in the midst of his inner ramblings, Carlos has begun to rub at his arms or play with his hair or curl up on himself. “Sorry.” He squints to find Evie in the dark.

She stands straight, not even sitting on the ground. Her heels are filthy and mud is caked on her tights. Perfectly painted nails are worrying the edges of her skirt.

Evie’s not outdoorsy.

“You can still have my jacket,” Carlos offers and sits up. “You can sit on it.”

“ _No_.”

He ducks his head. “I am sorry for…you know. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

There is silence between them, only the wind rustling dying leaves on dying trees. “I wasn’t allowed to eat for a week after that,” Evie says after a moment. “My mother thinks that I misplaced some of the ingredients or that I gave them away and she was furious. She threw away the rest of the leftovers from our dinner because she didn’t want me to sneak food and my first instinct was to find a way to give it to you.” She sighs heavily and shifts her weight. “Even after I knew you stole from me, you were my first concern.”

Carlos is touched. He yearns to tell her, to assure her he had a good reason because surely Evie would sympathize with him after knowing the truth, but he can’t. He can’t risk anyone else finding out or Evie looking down on him with disgust. Betas don’t crave omegas like alphas do, but Carlos has heard more than one beta of the Isle talk about what they would do with a bitch in heat. He can’t bear to have Evie look at him and see the same thing. “You don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand why I ever trusted you to begin with.”

He ducks his head and hugs himself. “I’m sorry.”

* * *

“Something out here smells so damn good!” Jay groans as they begin their way through Isle of the Doomed. “I’ve smelt it since we got on the boat.”

Mal casually sniffs the air and shrugs. “I smell it too, but that’s not what we’re here for.”

“It’s like fresh baked bread and fruit and all types of sweet shit,” Jay inhales deeply, “what is it?”

It’s Carlos, probably. There’s an ache in his stomach that resembles his heat, but not as intense. The suppressants are only working half way. He wants to kneel before these alphas and beta, but he can fight the urge with ease. There’s still a cramp in his stomach and a need to obey, but it’s not as intense.

Thankfully, neither is his scent if Jay can’t place him.

“Focus!” Mal snaps and keeps them moving. “We get through the mountain, we get the scepter, everything will be great.” She stalks forward, leaving Jay behind to keep sniffing at the trees as if they could be the source of what he’s looking for. Evie stays far behind too, seeking distance between herself and Carlos, which means he ends up in front with Mal.

Oh, joy.

Mal purposefully bumps his shoulder on the way up the treacherous hill. “Interesting talk last night,” she hums. She’s the same girl who came barging at his door two days ago, but she’s less fierce out in the wild. Her focus is on retrieving her mother’s scepter and not on terrorizing Carlos.

“You and Jay?” He asks and blinks innocently. “Have you two decided which countries you’ll own after we get out of here?”

“What did you steal from Blueberry to make her so mad?”

Even from behind them, Carlos can hear Evie’s gasp. He knows a secret of hers and she doesn’t trust him to keep it. That makes sense, seeing as Evie loathes him, but for her to think that he would betray her a second time…

The assumption is deserved, but no less painful.

“It doesn’t matter,” Carlos says, raising his voice to ensure Evie hears him. He stumbles over a root, but rights himself.

“It had to be something precious for her to bail on her little puppy.”

Carlos just shrugs and they continue walking.

“Not gonna tell me?” Mal pesters, twisting on her heel so that she’s walking backwards in front of Carlos, forcing him to look at her.

“Why did you bring Evie on this trip?”

“Avoiding the subject?”

“So are you.” He’s pushing himself so much, especially since he normally would be in heat right now and cowering to even a look from Mal, but Carlos is able to walk and talk normally, fighting the demons that want him to submit.

And it’s for Evie. Heat or no heat, alpha or not, Carlos has to find out why Mal brought her along.

The daughter of Maleficent scoffs and turns back around, leading their group through the trails. “If you and Blueberry aren’t allies anymore, don’t worry about it.” She drops her voice and hums. “She won’t a bother to anyone after this.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Carlos risks a look over his shoulder, spotting Evie not too far behind them, trying to subtly eavesdrop. Jay is further back, having given up on finding the source of the smell and probably looking at Evie’s ass because that’s the kind of thing Jay does.

“You’ll find out why I brought her along eventually.”

“Don’t hurt her.”

“Excuse me?” Mal turns to him, eyes glinting dangerously. “I’d watch that tone, _runt_.”

Carlos clenches his fist. This is for Evie. “Whatever stupid thing you’re mad about from ten years ago isn’t worth your anger anymore. Evie hasn’t done anything wrong. Let it go and leave her alone, she just wants you to like her.”

A firm hand on the back of his neck has Carlos halting in his steps. The sickening want to drop to his knees rises in his stomach. His head is forced to bow at the grip, so he can only look up at Mal through his eyelashes.

“Mind your own business,” she seethes. Jay and Evie have both stopped behind them, watching with interest. “Know your place, _beta_.”

“Please,” Carlos gasps out. He’s not sure what he’s asking for. Please don’t hurt Evie. Please bite me. Please leave her alone. Please make me kneel. “Please.”

Mal sneers and releases him. She begins walking without hesitation once more.

Without her balzing gaze on him, Carlos swallows and tries to regain himself. At least he didn’t drop to his knees like he did to Jay all those months ago. The suppressants just saved his ass.

Carlos scrambles to keep up with the alpha, ignoring the stares of Jay and Evie. “Mal, listen, Evie isn’t mean or vicious, can’t you drop this whole thing?”

Mal doesn’t respond to him at first. “What did you mean,” her voice drops as she keeps moving, “when you said Evie wants me to like her?”

“She…she does. You’re the top alpha in school, probably on the Isle,” Carlos swallows. “You’re scary and violent and wicked-”

“Don’t try to flatter me.”

“-She’s wants to be like you.” A root trips him again and he stumbles into a tree.

“Me?” Mal finally turns to look at him.

Carlos nods and keeps walking. “She thinks you’re cool and smart and everyone respects you,” he glances back at Evie, who is still trying to eavesdrop. “She just wants your approval.”

Mal doesn’t say anything more, but Carlos can tell she is lost in thought. He can only hope she reconsiders whatever evil plot she has for Evie.

After another hour of walking, the Forbidden Mountain looms in the distance and they all sigh in relief.

They come to a bridge they can’t pass until Carlos admits his mother never loved him. She loves her possessions – her car, her furs, her money – but not him. Jay and Evie watch from behind with Mal, who still doesn’t say anything.

They come to a cave that fills up with sand, leaving Carlos to choke as it fills his mouth and lungs, Mal and Evie screaming as they cling to each other. Jay shouts something that reveals his father’s greed and the sand disappears.

The come to a room full of mirrors and see distorted versions of themselves. Carlos is old and alone, hunched over and balding. Evie sobs at her appearance, curses her reflection, but Carlos studies his own. He looks deathly ill and he wonders what will happen to omegas that never have a pack. Is this disfigured old man what he will become?

They come to the scepter and…Mal insists that Evie can’t touch it. She swats the beta away and reaches for the magic herself, only to drop unconscious the moment she touches it.

“Mal!” Evie shrieks. She falls to her knees, hands ghosting over the alpha’s face. “What happened?”

“She saved your ass, that’s what,” Jay scoffs. He stays standing, looking over Mal as if she’s an interesting bug on the ground. “She’s got magic in her, a direct link to Maleficent. She’ll be fine.”

Carlos lays his jacket on Mal, tucks it around her, and they all wait.

After just a minute, Mal blinks her eyes open and groans.

They all leave Forbidden Mountain in silence, but a conversation manages to take place anyway.

* * *

He returns to Hell Hall just a few days later and nearly collapses when the door closes.

“Shit,” Carlos breathes and places a hand to his head. The past week was…exciting. And terrifying. Exhausting. Enlightening. He had dreaded his heat only to realize the suppressants work well enough…as long as an alpha doesn’t touch him. The memory of Mal gripping his neck has his knees weak.

His head feels funny and his feet are heavy, a weight in his stomach pulls him to the floor and Carlos closes his eyes.

This isn’t his heat. This isn’t the urge to submit to someone, but this is familiar. He’s had this sensation before.

Carlos trembles. His head feels foggy and he just wants to sleep. Or die. Curling up and dying is starting to sound nice, he would love to just…stop existing.

A feeble whimper escapes him and then that obnoxious fucking purr starts up.

What is this sensation? Purring should only happen as a comfort mechanism. He’s not in pain! He ought to be jumping for joy at how well the suppressants work and that everyone is okay! He didn’t die and Evie didn’t die!

Evie…

Oh, Evie. She still hates him.

Carlos drags himself against the couch, resting his head against the wilted cushion. He’s so damn tired and that noise…that purr is so soothing. The vibrations coming from his chest and up his throat are hypnotic, the purr eases the panic in his mind and slow his breathing.

Emotions are so tiring, Carlos thinks. He’s been a jumble of relief and anguish and panic and excitement the past days and now he feels like he can’t move, he can hardly keep his eyes open and his purr lulls him into a state of relaxation.

He’s just going to rest his head for a little while. That’s all.

A little while doesn’t last very long at all when the door slams open and sharp heels _click_ against the floor.

Carlos jerks himself up right. He didn’t fall asleep, but he wasn’t quite awake either. How much time has passed? How long has he been resting against the couch?

It doesn’t matter. He’s been gone nearly a week on this trip to retrieve Maleficent’s scepter. Carlos knows none of his chores are done.

Cruella knows it too. It’s the second time in a year he’s ignored his list.

The purr stops entirely when she comes in the room and Carlos can’t get away fast enough.

One of shoes hits his head (all anyone ever talks about is Cruella’s fashion empire, no one ever discusses her aim) and leaves him disoriented. Then she pulls his hair and sends him to the floor, the corner of the table hitting his temple.

Carlos doesn’t remember much after that.

* * *

“Anyone home? Hello?”

He blinks his eyes open but doesn’t move. He can’t move. Not yet.

“Carlos? Cruella?”

That’s Evie…right? A beta, not a threat, not unless she brought Alphas into his home again. If they found him like this, weak and vulnerable, Carlos wouldn’t stand a chance against them. If Evie really hates him as much as she claims, she could bring anyone in when Cruella is gone since Evie can see their empty driveway from her bedroom window. She could bring Jay and Mal or other alphas or she could be here to steal back her mother’s suppressant supplies.

It’s not like Carlos can do much about it right now.

He must have been purring again before Evie walked in because now the room seems empty except for her high heels on the linoleum floor. Carlos had grown so used to the noise that he hadn’t noticed he was doing it until he stopped to better hear her.

“Is anyone-? Oh evil.”

Blue high heels stop just inches away from his head. If Evie wanted to stomp on his skull, she most certainly could.

“Carlos?” Her gentle hands cup his face and his eyes can’t focus. There’s just so much blue. “Hey, can you hear me?”

He groans in response.

“Stay here,” Evie’s voice floats in his head. “I’ll be back.”

Why would she tell him to stay here? Carlos couldn’t move even if he wanted to.

Evie is gone for minutes or maybe hours or maybe the rest of the day. Time doesn’t seem to exist when his head feels like this. She returns at some point later, pressing a cool rag to his head and a cup of water to his lips.

Carlos tries to drink, most of it spills down his shirt, but what little makes it past his lips is wonderful and quenching. He shakily takes the glass from her and holds it himself, gulping down the rest of it.

“What happened?” She pulls his eyes open, checks his pulse, winces at the gash along his head. “Who did this?”

“Chores,” Carlos grumbles, “…not done.”

“ _Cruella_?”

He nods.

“Oh, Carlos,” she breathes. He likes when Evie says his name. It sounds so nice. “I never knew it was like _this_ with her. I didn’t know…I didn’t know it was this bad.”

The beta is crying and it does not sound nice. Evie shouldn’t cry. Evie is pretty and gentle. Her hands are so soft. Why would he make her cry?

“S-sorr-rry,” Carlos chokes out. He wants to sit up, but his head is in Evie’s lap and why would he ever want to leave? “I-I-.”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Evie brushes his hair back. “Come on, help me get you on to the couch.”

Carlos isn’t allowed on the furniture. He shakes his head.

“Then, oh,” she frets and whines while Carlos tries to snicker. So betas _can_ whine, how interesting. “Hold on.” Evie lifts his head and sets it back down on something that smells so sweet. Carlos lazily reaches up to feel the material – it’s Evie’s jacket, the one made from cotton. It smells just like her. He’s missed her scent. He’s missed her.

“I…I’ve missed you too, Carlos.”

Oh, did he say that out loud?

Evie patches up his head and his face and his chest and his neck and his arms and his shoulders and how many other places did Cruella get to? She helps him with more water and eventually sits him up. He eats part of a stale sandwich and gags when he tries to eat more. Evie brings him fresh clothes and offers to help him change, but Evie seeing him undressed has Carlos flustered for reason he doesn’t quite get.

She’s a pretty beta and her smell is calming, but they’re not… She’s not…

Carlos has already been kicked out of her future pack. Maybe, before he stole from her and she was willing to form a pack with him, it would have been different, but Evie’s not ever going to be _his_ Beta.

With a pink face, he watches Evie turn around and give him privacy. Carlos pulls his shirt over his head with minimal whining, bruises and torn skin groaning in protest. He struggles to pull his pants off and it takes some time for his boxers too, but he eventually finds his way into clothing that isn’t soaked in sweat and blood and he nearly collapses back onto the ground.

Evie is back beside him in an instant, tucking her jacket beneath his head once more. “What you said,” she whispers to him, “to the gargoyles, about Cruella never loving you, I… It made me think. All the bruises and scars and… I’m an idiot.”

“Not a…idiot.”

“I should have seen it.”

Carlos can’t look up at her because his eyes feel heavy, but his face is buried in a cotton jacket that smells of faint perfume and nail polish and Evie, Evie, Evie.

She’s only been allowed out of her castle for a few months now, she still hasn’t learnt the awful things of the Isle. Not yet.

“You’re an idiot too,” she says, but there’s no heat behind her words. She lightly pokes Carlos’ left shoulder – one of the only places that is not bruised.

Carlos hums an agreement.

“You can’t give alpha suppressants to a beta,” Evie chastises as she sits beside him, rubbing his shoulder. “I know that they can curb aggression and violence, but the biology is all wrong. You can end up doing more harm to Cruella than good.” She rubs little circles on Carlos’ neck and he shivers. “That’s probably what caused her rage this time, all those chemicals that aren’t supposed to be in her trying to suppress the biology she doesn’t have.”

It takes a while with his head so foggy for Carlos to comprehend what Evie’s implying. “I gave the suppressants to…Cruella?”

“That explains why you stole them,” Evie says to herself more than him. “If I knew you were looking for a way to calm her, I…I would have helped. But this just…made it worse.”

Carlos doesn’t say anything else. He thinks he could fall asleep.

“I’ll help you figure something out for her,” Evie sounds so far away. “We’ll get supplies together, we’ll figure out a new formula for her, something to ease her aggression as a beta, okay? It’ll all be better…”

She keeps speaking and Carlos falls asleep.

* * *

“You’ll need some of this and…this! What else…?”

Carlos stands watch at the door and peeks back to Evie. “How many things go into a suppressant?”

“Well, I’ve never made one for a beta before,” Evie hums and squints to read the labels in the Weird Science lab. “I’m gaging what goes into, well, _you know_ ,” she grimaces, “and trying to alter it to better fit a beta.”

“Evie, really, you can just give me the stuff and I’ll figure it all out.”

“You expect me to let you figure out how to suppress a beta’s aggression on your own?” She looks over her shoulder with a quirked brow. “I can’t let you do that.”

Carlos squirms under her gaze. He never told Evie the truth, even after she took care of him for days after Cruella’s beating. She soothed his hair back and helped him bathe, did his whole chore list on her own and made him food. He thought about it, but knew he never would, he never _could_. There were too many risks of someone else knowing. There was too great of a chance of Evie seeing him as the rest of the Isle sees omegas.

She agreed to help him find a suppressant for his _mother_ and assist in making it. Then Carlos would have to take it and make his own adjustments so it worked to his omega biology _after_ he figured out what changed need to be made.

This can work though. Afterall, Evie has more experience with making suppressants and even if she works on a recipe for a beta, that will still help immensely. Betas are closer to omegas than alphas are. This will get him closer to a suppressant that works as well as it should and get rid of his heats entirely.

“You know you can’t give these to her consistently, right?” Evie asks as she carefully piles the stolen goods into her bag. “My mother wanted to, but constantly being on suppressants can mess up your biology, so you need…” She tilts her head and places a finger to her lips. “Well, actually, since Cruella doesn’t have a rut or a heat to go through, maybe she can stay on suppressants. Alphas and omegas have to take time to let nature take its course and for their body to have release, but I’ve never heard of a beta on suppressants.”

Carlos touches the inside of his wrist as panic sets in his chest. “What happens if omegas…and alphas don’t take that time? If they just stay on suppressants forever?”

Evie shrugs. “My mother never told me, but she said going more than a year without a rut could mess up her biology. It could prevent her from having children if she ever finds another prince who wants an heir or damage her insides. It can cause pain. Like, her body doesn’t have an outlet for…whatever ruts do.” Evie’s voice has dropped again even though they are the only two in school. She has one week every year that she goes through it.”

“Oh. Okay.” Shit, nothing ever works in his favor.

Though, if being on suppressants indefinitely messed up his biology…maybe that could work in his favor. He’ll have to think about it more.

The two of them slip out of the lab, quietly closing the door behind them. They make it down the hall and out of the school without incident and it’s only when they start down the cement steps that they’re stopped.

“Hey guys,” a familiar voice sings and they turn to see Mal. “We’ve been waiting for you.” She’s leaning against the side of the building, perfect picture of cool, with Jay beside her. “What were you nerds doing in there?”

Evie brushes off her dress and shuffles her feet. “I’m not a nerd.”

“We were talking to Dr. Facilier,” Carlos says quickly. “He just kept rambling on about spirits and deals and the likes. Why were you waiting for us?” He takes a step back and reaches for Evie, ready to bolt as soon as Mal makes a step toward him.

“Go drop your stuff off,” Mal looks at their bags. “Meet us in the marketplace in ten minutes.”

“Why?”

Mal grins and shows her teeth. “We’re going to go wreak havoc, steal, vandalize, the normal shit.”

Carlos and Evie look at each other.

“You’re coming with us,” Jay informs them, smiling with the perfect amount of charm. “You know, just like the trip to get the scepter. The more, the merrier.”

There’s another pause of silence.

“We were a good team,” Mal finally relents and she looks as if the compliment has choked her. “We’ll get more stolen goods and terrorize more people if we…work together,” the words drip from her like poison, but she looks at them expectantly.

Evie, turning pink, swallows and holds her head high. “Okay. We’ll meet you in the marketplace in ten minutes.” She gives the alphas one final look before turning around, pulling Carlos with her.

What the hell has he gotten himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, Evie's chapter is just over 21 pages. I tried to incorporate the events of the first book, but I don't currently have 'Isle of the Lost' on me, so this is all from memory. Please let me know if I wrote something wrong or out of order. How did you feel about this chapter? Too long? Too many things going on? Should I have skipped the events of the book?
> 
> So OT4 is beginning! But Carlos is keeping his lips sealed. I'm sure you all can guess who's next!


	4. Mal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of Evie's chapter, Autophobia had 243 kudos, thank you!
> 
> Thanks to turntechgodliness for helping me out!

The knots in his stomach are so intense, Carlos thinks he might throw up. It would be kind of difficult since there hasn’t been much in him the past few days. He had some bread yesterday morning and a soft apple the day before that Evie gave him, but that’s it.

Normally, he and Evie are pretty good at getting and sharing food, but they’ve had extra help these past few months in the form of two highly-feared alphas. Jay and Mal have a way of terrorizing the barges to get what they want and they’re strong bargainers in the marketplace. The two of them mixed with Carlos and Evie have become a nearly unstoppable force the past six months.

But the Rotten Four – which is the nickname Evie gave them and it just kind of stuck – have gone back down to just Carlos and Evie this past week. Mal and Jay haven’t been seen in five days. They both disappeared. No note, no goodbye, nothing.

Carlos had checked Jafar’s Junk Shop and never saw Jay, Evie watched Bargain Castle for two days without a sight of Mal. Neither has been seen or heard in Dragon Hall or in the marketplace.

Damnit. Carlos never thought he would ever say this: he kind of misses Jay and Mal.

Not just their muscle and how they bully their way into getting what they want – and, by extension, what Carlos and Evie want. Carlos genuinely worries for them. He misses Jay’s stupid humor and crazy confidence, he misses Mal’s commanding tone and her clever plans.

Oh evil. He can’t deny it. Carlos has gotten attached to two alphas.

He’s cleaning the kitchen for the second time that day just to take his mind off of the growing fear,

( _Jafar finally killed Jay, ripped out his own son’s throat._ )

( _Maleficent has thrown Mal off the roof of their castle and hid the body_.)

( _They were ambushed by a hoard of alphas and drowned in the ocean_.)

when Carlos overhears a conversation that makes him stop.

“I can’t stand that wicked step-bitch,” Jasper snarls. “She ought to not be so damn picky about who her daughter chooses.”

The man is in the dining room, Carlos can tell, with Horace. The two henchmen often come in to receive orders from Cruella. They’re always searching the Isle for some poor animal to hand over to her or the newest fashion off the barges.

Carlos thinks that they’re crazy for still catering to Cruella when she clearly has no power on the Isle. The only reason he spends his Wednesdays washing her underwear is because, well, he gets beaten if he doesn’t. Jasper and Horace have no excuse to flock to her.

“Anastasia?” Horace hums. “I heard men was fighting their way into the salon for her today.”

“Women too. She’s in heat again. She was out and about when it hit too.”

Carlos can hear them perfectly from the kitchen, but he wanders closer anyway.

“You’d think that an omega would know to be inside for something like that,” says Horace. “She’s one of the only omegas on the Isle.”

“Only one without a pack too!” Jasper snaps and slams his hand on the table. “LeFeo is with Gaston and Hook has an omega in his bloody pirates. I went to Lady Tremaine, all gentlemanly and what not. I offered to help her daughter through it. Better a beta than some rough alpha, eh? But does she listen? No!”

To be fair, Carlos wouldn’t either. He’d sooner spend a heat alone than let a man like Jasper touch him, beta or not.

A moment of heavy breathing follows, then Jasper speaks once more. “Forgot what it’s like to smell an omega. I’m forgetting damn near everything about them.”

If only all alphas and betas on the Isle would do that. Then Carlos would never worry about being recognized for what he is.

“You know, boys,” Cruella sings from behind Carlos, cackling when her son jumps, “I never bed an omega, but I heard that they all get wet.” She grabs Carlos’ arm and pulls him out of the kitchen and into the dining room, exposing him from his hiding spot. “Boy and girls alike, they produce _slick_ ,” Cruella purses her lips, “for male alphas and betas.”

Jasper and Horace look at each other, then Horace quirk a brow at Carlos. “You eavesdropping, boy?”

Carlos shakes his head and gulps. “No.”

“Really?” Cruella draws out. She’s holding Carlos with one hand and a cigarette in the other, smoke wafting into the air. “You’re not hiding behind the wall, listening to Jasper’s mundane story,” Cruella rolls her eyes, “and thinking about having your own little omega to fuck with?”

His face burns. “No, mother.”

Cruella blows her smoke into his face, but it’s a common occurrence and Carlos knows how to keep a straight face. “You don’t want a pretty, soft omega to kneel before you?”

The desire to kneel before anyone has weakened since Carlos has started taking his suppressants, but it’s not entirely faded. He still daydreams about being on his knees for someone – an alpha, a beta, anyone – and having them run their hands through his hair, order him, take control, praise him and whisper that Carlos is a good omega.

So, no, he doesn’t want an omega to kneel before him. He tells Cruella as such.

“Pitiful _beta_ ,” Cruella releases him. “You wouldn’t know proper submission if an omega presented their _ass_ to you.”

“He’s too much like an omega himself.” Jasper mocks and narrows his eyes. “What’s your little girlfriend – a beta or an alpha?”

Carlos feels his ears burn. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” That’s true, despite what Jasper and Horace still seem to believe after smelling Cruella’s perfume on him on the day of his first heat. They both like to harass him ‘ _getting his dick wet_ ’, mocking Carlos for an act he has never done and never plans to do.

“Is it the beta next door?” Horace asks. “Or the purple alpha?”

“Neither!” Carlos squirms and ignores the heavy stare of his mother. Yes, Evie is beautiful and Mal is stunning and the omega in him is, ahem, _interested_ in them both, as well as Jay, but they’re not dating or fucking. There hasn’t even been a proper discussion about whether the four of them are…a pack.

Jasper chuckles and it gives Carlos chills. “Bet they both force you to your knees and make you play like an omega. You ever get _wet_ , boy?”

“N-no.” He’s hasn’t had a heat since taking the suppressants, but Carlos remembers when he first presented. He hadn’t produced _slick_ or anything like the sort. Why does everyone on the Isle seem to feminize omegas? Carlos is still a dude!

Cruella sighs and shakes her head. “Shame. You’re not much to look at, but you did get half of my beauty. Your mouth alone would have brought in a pretty penny.” She takes a long drag of her cigarette and glances at Carlos. “Don’t think you’re off the hook. One toe out of line and I can make a profit out of beta too.”

It’s the first time in a while Cruella has used this threat. Jasper isn’t usually so nasty either. Carlos chalks up their aggressive behavior to Anastasia Tremaine. If she truly went into heat in public, that would have caused quite a stir on the Isle.

Carlos can’t imagine that happening though. Even on suppressants, he is sure to count down the days of when his heat should hit and plans carefully around them. Anastasia is older than him, she has been an omega for longer. She ought to know her heats.

“I’d pay for a mouth like that,” Jasper says after a moment. “How much you want for him Cruella?”

“I would too,” Horace looks thoughtfully at Carlos, “depending on the price.”

The knots in his stomach bring an entirely new wave of nausea and Carlos stumbles back against the wall. Cruella won’t sell him, he hasn’t done anything wrong ( _yet_ ). A young beta wouldn’t normally bring in anything, but the lingering desires of an omega in heat have thrown everything off today.

Just as Cruella looks at him – maybe to tell him to stop quaking or maybe to agree to the wishes of her henchmen – there is a pounding at the front door.

“I’ll get it!” Carlos sprints out of the room and down the hall, skidding to a stop before crashing into the wood. He opens the door and debates how quickly he could get to his treehouse if he ran out the front and around the house.

His plan dies when brilliant eyes meet his. “Carlos!”

“Evie?”

“We gotta go!” She’s breathless and flushed, as if she ran over from her castle. “I just saw Jay and Mal!”

Even if Carlos wasn’t desperately trying to escape his mother and the other betas in the dining room, he would still run down the street with Evie. He’s been sick with worry for the two alphas.

“I was looking out my window and saw them enter the marketplace,” Evie pants as they move. “We gotta catch them before they leave again!”

That’s not a problem though because when the two of them enter the marketplace, breathless and sweating (but Evie somehow still looks radiant), Jay and Mal are in no hurry to leave.

Mal is snarling at everyone in sight and Jay is trying to guide her through the crowd. She yanks out of his grasp and shoves Jay back, but he doesn’t retaliate. Instead, Jay lowers his head and moves his lips slowly, carefully, as if he’s trying to keep his words low enough for only Mal.

Citizens in the market keep their distance, which isn’t unusual. Jay and Mal can take on almost any adult on an ordinary day, but the villains are staying further than normal, going out of their way to avoid the two.

This scene is off. There is something wrong.

When Carlos glances at Evie, she’s aware of it too, but they both keep moving.

“Mal! Jay!”

The alphas look up at Evie’s cry.

Jay curses, loud enough to be heard over the rushing blood in Carlos’ ears. “Shit.”

“Where the hell have you two been?!” Evie cries as she finally stops before them. “You disappear for days, we had no idea wha-. Jay…” She reaches slowly to touch his shoulder, “what _happened_?”

Carlos follows her gaze and winces at the state of Jay’s throat. It’s covered in bruises and bites, scabbed over punctures and aching hickies. He’s never seen an alpha look like that. It’s the state of a beta’s throat, it’s a sign of submission.

His first thought is that Jafar’s dominance has gone to a new level of horrifying.

“Ease, princess,” Jay grabs Evie’s hand and lowers it. “I’m fine.”

“You neck looks like raw meat,” Carlos gags. “That’s not fine.”

Jay shrugs, looking too nonchalant for an alpha who was bitten into submission. “It kept Mal from losing her mind, so whatever.”

“ _You_?” Evie finally turns to Mal, who is eyeing Jay’s throat with a grin. “You did that?”

“I did,” she says smugly. “Bit him all up.” Mal grabs a fistful of Jay’s shirt and pulls his body flush against hers. “Everywhere.”

“Why?”

Mal looks at Evie and narrows her eyes, sizing her up. Then, she steps forward and cups Evie’s chin. “Because I wanted to.”

“M!” Evie balls her hands into fists, fully prepared to go into a lecture about how the four of them must have each other’s backs and not turn on one another. She’s grown protective over everyone in their group, Carlos knows, and she’s about to scold Mal whether she be an alpha or not.

“She’s in her rut,” Jay explains before the beta can begin her rant. He places a hand on Mal’s shoulder. “It’s like her main way to express dominance.”

Carlos feels his jaw drop and sees Evie do the same.

Mal is in her rut? Of course, on an Isle full of alphas, Carlos has seen men and women during their ruts, but most hide themselves away for it. Ruts are…well, Carlos supposes they are the alpha equivalent of a heat. It’s desire and need, but with a foggy head and over-stimulation. An alpha could definitely do damage in their rut, but an unclear mind meant they were unable to think clearly and that put them at risk.

Why the hell is Mal outside?

“Don’t looked so shocked, princess,” Mal purrs. “Alphas gotta have some outlet. Why not each other?”

“You…” Carlos looks between the three of them before settling on Jay, “did that? You… _submitted_ to her?” He would never have thought Jay would willingly put himself in that position again.

Jay narrows his eyes. He knows exactly what Carlos is remembering, even though neither of them have ever spoken about what occurred in Jafar’s Junk Shop over a year ago. “Yeah. And she’s gonna help me with _my_ rut,” Jay bares his teeth and Carlos resists the instinct to bare his throat and soothe, but the hot-headedness fades easily from Jay’s posture. “Plus, we got to have some freaky alpha sex. Win win.”

 _Freaky alpha sex_. The words run through Carlos’ mind until his skin feels too hot and he can’t look Jay in the eyes anymore.

“Oh beta,” Mal coos at Evie, twisting a blue curl between her fingers. “You smell like you enjoy the idea of two alphas fucking.” She runs her nose along Evie’s jaw, down her throat. “Smells like you like the idea _a lot_.”

Carlos, still unwilling to look at Jay, turns to watch Evie. She’s pink, utterly still in Mal’s grasp. Her lips are squeezed tight and her chin is up, a small action to expose her neck more.

“Hey, relax, Mal,” Jay says as he steps closer. “Remember, your rut affects betas, you gotta give her some distance.”

“No.” It’s a growl, pure alpha when Mal responds. “She’s mine.” Mal looks at Evie’s face and smirks. “Besides, it smells as if she likes it just fine.”

Evie whimpers and tips her head back more, her shoulders dropping in a sign of submission.

With a devious smirk, Mal nips at the skin in front of her. She grabs a fistful of Evie’s hair and one hand lands on the beta’s hip, pulling them closer. “Pretty thing,” Mal murmurs, “submits just like an omega.”

Carlos holds his breath. Evil, he just turned 15 recently and he knows the basics of dynamics – mostly from Horace and Jasper’s mocking. His suppressants have kept his urges under control, but watching Mal grind against Evie has Carlos’ blood rushing. The sight of Jay holding Mal’s shoulders, watching the scene with his own intense gaze, makes Carlos light headed.

He hasn’t had a reaction like this in months. It could be because Carlos has missed Jay and Mal and fretted for days; the relief of having them back is a whiplash of emotions. Or perhaps it’s because Jay and Mal and Evie and him are all _something_ , friends or allies or the closest thing to a pack the Isle has, and the sight of all three of them together is soothing on a new level.

Finally, Carlos allows himself to breathe again and picks up on a scent.

His olfaction had been dulled to that of a beta, but this close to Mal, anyone would be able to pick up on the smell of her rut.

And maybe that’s what’s causing Carlos to become flustered and quiet and watching the scene unfold from the outside like he’s some perverted creep.

The thought – _outsider, stranger, unwanted_ – is enough for Carlos to tremble. A sickness settles in his stomach. It’s been a while since that has happened, but Carlos knows exactly what that sensation means and he is not about to purr in the middle of the marketplace and ruin all his hard work of hiding himself.

Carlos takes a single step back, still watching the only three people he gives a shit about huddled together. The movement gets Mal’s attention and her eyes flicker from Evie’s throat to Carlos’ face. She narrows her gaze and pulls away from the other girl.

“Beta.”

With a flash of shame, Carlos turns on his heel and runs. He takes the same path Evie and he used when first seeking out Mal and Jay, past the rotting vegetable stand, through a used clothing shop and around Frollo’s crumbling church. His feet hit the pavement and Carlos ducks in between people effortlessly, hopping over slumbering villains and dancing around angry store owners.

The exhilaration of the run replaces the ache in his chest, it kills the urge to purr.

Just as Carlos thinks he can slow down, the pitiful longing to soothe himself having been smothered out, he hears, “ _Mal_!”

Carlos spins around to see purple running toward him at full speed.

Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit.

He ran. He ran from an alpha. He ran from an alpha in _rut_.

It’s biology, it’s taught in class, it’s common fucking sense to never run from an alpha in their rut. Alphas see it as a challenge, as a way to conquer and claim. They always give chase. It’s their instinct, to show they are fast and strong and used as a way of saying “ _I caught you, I am superior, you are_ mine.”

Just as his feet suddenly get the message to move, move, move, Carlos swears.

Did he run because he hated being an outside to the three of them? Did he run to suppress his want to purr?

Or did he run because he craved Mal chasing him and catching him and claiming him? Did he merely want Mal to pursue him?

Damnit. He is so weak.

Carlos moves faster than ever, running out of the marketplace as quick as he can because Mal has her eyes locked on him like she wants to devour him. Jay is behind her, but not close enough to catch her, and Evie is further behind.

He runs into people and trips over garbage, but Carlos sprints like his life depends on it actually might.

Mal’s rut is overriding his suppressants. Even though he couldn’t smell her, the pheromones she gives off must have perked up the oppressed omega in him. If she catches him and Carlos submits like he should – the way he’s been suppressing for months but long for since he presented – he will out himself in the middle of the Isle.

The sound of hard boots is closer than he remembers and Carlos pushes himself harder. His heart is prepared to beat right out of his chest and his clothing are clinging to the sweat on his skin.

He never thought he would be chased by an alpha (because Carlos never thought he would be dumb enough to run from one) and now that he is, Carlos has shivers. He can hear Mal panting, he can almost pick up on her scent no matter how dulled his senses are. On his neck, Carlos feels her breath ghost against his skin and he all but trips over his own feet.

They haven’t formally talked about it, but in their little not-pack, Mal is clearly the alpha leader. Jay is muscles and charm, but Mal is pure dominance and skill. Carlos envies her.

But if she is to be his alpha, mark Carlos and claim him and take him as her own, she’ll prove herself, it’s ingrained in all alphas that running away during their rut is a challenge and the alpha must reign supreme.

Carlos already knows Mal is in charge though, ever since their mission to retrieve Maleficent’s scepter. He has never questioned her authority, why is he doing so now? Why is he misbehaving for her? Especially during her rut of all times, when she is already going through so much, why is he doing this to her?

There’s a dumpster ahead of him and Carlos doesn’t even try to run past it. He barely slows before crashing into the side, slumping over immediately.

How could he be so awful to Mal, after all she’s done? She protects him and shares food and shelters him. What is so wrong with Carlos that he would run from her during her rut, make her chase him?

He doesn’t move from the side of the dumpster, awaiting Mal’s weight on his back and forcing him to the ground. Carlos won’t fight or run anymore from her, he’ll be good and maybe Mal will still accept him, still want him after the disobedient scene he just caused, still be his alpha.

“Dude, _fucking go_!”

Carlos lifts his head from the metal, glancing over his shoulder. In the process of crashing himself into the dumpster, he hadn’t heard the commotion behind him.

Jay is on top of Mal, who is kicking and clawing at him. He has pinned her to the ground and avoids her thrashing head as best he can. Mal gets one of his hands and clenches her teeth around it while Jay howls.

The omega falls back against the dumpster. His legs feel as if the bones have disappeared. Carlos blearily looks at Mal at the pavement, still fighting Jay, and gasps when her eyes meet his.

“ _Beta_!”

“Carlos, go!”

That’s an order, a clear command. Carlos swallows and nods, stumbling away and trying to get his feet to move and ignore the sound of Mal trying to reach him.

When he looks back, almost a block away, Mal is still kicking in Jay’s hold, but they’re standing now. Evie is beside them, winded and flushed, as Jay speaks to her.

His chest tightens. Carlos just wants to return to them, duck his head and kneel before Mal and allow her to do as she pleases.

But his mind is clearer with the distance between he and Mal and Carlos knows he will be kicking himself later for his stupidity, for his ridiculous omega instinct to please and soothe.

The swirl of emotions in him is too much. The anger and confusion and panic and longing all bubbling up until the intensity is back in Carlos’ chest, threatening to spill out of his throat in a pitiful purr. Damn it.

He’s at the steps of Hell Hall. Going inside isn’t an option, not with his mother and Jasper and Horace still there and they’re all agitated with the idea of an omega in heat around, but Carlos can’t stay out in the open either.

Trekking around the house, Carlos heads for the backyard. The ladder to his treehouse appears too far and difficult to climb, but he hoists himself on the first rung anyway.

Before long, Carlos collapses inside, laying on the wood and heaving.

“Stupid Mal. Stupid rut. Stupid biology.” Carlos pushes himself up onto his hands and knees and pulls the ladder up. He’s never been bothered in his treehouse before, he’s pretty sure Cruella doesn’t even know it exists, but there’s never such a thing as being too safe.

With the rope ladder tucked inside, Carlos crawls over into the corner of his treehouse. With the weather becoming warmer, he has spent more time outside and moved most of his belongings into his hideaway and out of sight from his mother. There is a stash of stale crackers and a chipped cup with water along with the blanket and pillow Evie gave him. Jay’s old jacket is rolled up over there too because now that they hang out more often, Jay has been gifting Carlos with food and clothes and trinkets consistently.

(The alpha always stands taller and preens when Carlos accepts whatever Jay provides and it’s honestly adorable, but Carlos is too distracted to think about that.)

He drops onto the blanket and pulls the pillow closer and Jay’s jacket. All of the fabric has lost the smell of their original owners, but Carlos has the urge to rub his face against them anyway and he’s not strong enough to resist.

This isn’t a nest though! Carlos is not doing anything like that _ever_. He’s not piling up fabrics from the people closest to him and rolling in their scents, he’s not cuddling blankets and jackets and cooing for affection, he’s not doing that. This pile of stuff is just a…bed. It’s a bed in his treehouse. And it is composed of gifts and scents of the people Carlos enjoys. And no one else is allowed in it without his permission.

Besides, if this was a nest – which it is not! – it would be a pitiful nest. It’s hardly big enough for Carlos, let alone his whole pack. Not that he actually has a pack. But if he did, if there comes a day where Mal and Jay decide to claim him and Evie properly, this nest wouldn’t do at all.

Carlos only fits under the blanket if he pulls his legs up and huddles in on himself. That’s how he normally sleeps, so it’s not a big deal. But if his pack were to join him, there would be no space for the other three.

Jay is the tallest out of them and he would be so cramped in this little corner. He needs more room. Evie, a practical princess, is used to nice and gentle things, she could never go back to using the castoffs she gave Carlos. She deserves a nicer nest. Mal insists that everything be purple and all the nest has is a blue blanket and pillow and a leather jacket. She needs more color.

How could he ever think Mal would want him in her pack when Carlos can’t even make a proper nest?

He feels the vibrations in his chest before he hears the purr and Carlos melts into the floor. His face stays hidden in Jay’s jacket, Evie’s pillow is kept to his chest and he rolls on the blanket, as if his skin could pick up her lingering scent from months ago.

The purr fills the treehouse and the constant rumble eases Carlos into a still trance. He breathes heavily and if he tries hard enough, he can almost smell Jay’s hair and Evie’s perfume.

But there’s nothing from Mal in his nest. No clothing or pillow or blanket.

Carlos hides his face and tries to muffle the noise when his purr grows louder.

* * *

 

Three days later, Evie coaxes him out of his treehouse and back to school. She promises Mal’s rut is entirely done and Carlos can’t avoid her forever. He has taken double the amount of suppressants since hiding away. It shortened his stash, but Carlos has better control of himself now.

“What did you do after I got away that day?” He asks as they hop up the steps to Dragon Hall.

Evie’s face flushes and she clears her throat. “Well, ah, once I got away from the influence of Mal’s scent, I left too. It didn’t seem fair to… _do_ anything with her when she’s so crazy in her rut.” Her voice lowers to a whisper. “I know how my mother gets. Is that why you ran?”

Carlos gulps, but holds the door open for her to their class. “No. I just, uh…” lost himself in a moment of self-pity and nearly ruined his whole life. “I panicked I guess.”

By the time lunch rolls around, Carlos has seen Jay multiple times. His neck is in a far worse state than it was before. Carlos assumes Mal’s aggression from an unsuccessful chase was taken out on Jay.

He hangs his head in shame.

Mal passes him a few times in the halls, but never says anything to him. She stares at him a lot though. It makes Carlos’ skin break out in goosebumps.

After school, Carlos waits patiently for her at the doors. A few students snarl at him, but very few have been willing to pick on him and incur the wrath of Jay and Mal. Carlos doesn’t push back though. He ducks his head in a sign of submission and they all walk pass him.

“Waiting for me?”

Mal’s voice startles him out of his thoughts. Carlos blinks up at her and studies her expression, but her face is perfectly blank. “Um, yeah. Hi.”

“Hi.”

“About the other day,” Carlos looks down at his feet, “when I…ran from you, uh…”

“It’s fine.” Mal says. There’s no heat or bitterness beneath her words, but an underlying…chill. When Carlos meets her gaze, she shrugs. “I kind of thought we were on the same page about everything, but it’s okay.” She bristles at herself. “I guess I should have asked you first.”

Carlos swallows. “Asked me…what?”

“You know,” Mal begins to walk down the steps and he follows, “the four of us being…a potential pack.” She quickly says the words and continues as if her admission is a normal topic to discuss on the Isle. “If you don’t want to be a part of it, I’m not going to push you.”

When she had shown up on his doorstop months ago, with Evie and Jay behind her and demanding Carlos come help them on a crazy mission, he had been terrified of her. Now, after spending so much time with her and seeing her artwork and try to braid Jay and Evie’s hair, Carlos knows better. Mal is terrifying, of course, but she’s not invincible.

His actions have hurt her.

Carlos rubs his wrist, drawing little circles with the pad of his thumb. “Your…pack?”

“Yeah.” She grins at him. “The four of us: Jay’s strength, Evie’s grace, your brain, could you imagine it? We would run the Isle.” Mal smirks off into the distance, fantasizing about the collateral destruction and hell they would cause, but her the corners of her lips turn down. “I should have made sure you knew what we were going for.”

Carlos babbles. “I want that! I do, I want that. I’d love to...to…” _belong to you_ “be a part of your pack.”

The eye roll is so obvious, Carlos didn’t even need to see it. “Way to show that by running from me. You know that’s a challenge to-.”

“Yes, I know!” Carlos groans. He lowers his gaze when Mal shoots him a sharp look for interrupting her. “I know, I panicked. Everyone was acting wild since Anastasia’s heat started in public and you…” Carlos stops in his tracks. “You caused her heat by being out,” he says softly to himself. “She must have picked up your scent and that’s what started it.”

Shit. If Carlos weren’t on suppressants, that could have been a very different story for him. He’s not even on _proper_ suppressants. All he takes are mild scent blockers and crushed drugs, dissolved into the chemicals he takes from Yen Sid’s lab.

(And the lab has been left unlocked more often, Carlos has noticed. Either Yen Sid has no idea that someone is stealing from or…

He does.)

Mal shrugs. “Whoops.” She turns and keeps walking and Carlos picks up the pace. “Whatever. The fact is, you ran from me. Evie didn’t do that, Jay didn’t do that, but you did.”

“Because I-!” Carlos purses his lips. “I…umm…”

“Dude, relax.” Still, there is no anger in Mal’s voice, which is odd for an alpha fresh out of a rut, but her words are distant. It feels as if they are miles apart instead of walking side by side “You don’t want to be a part of my pack. I won’t make you.”

“No!” Carlos grabs her hand and stops Mal. He’s never so forward, but he’s anxious now. “I do. I promise I do.”

Mal scoffs and pulls away. “If it’s just for protection, you can find it elsewhere. You didn’t want to submit to me, whatever.”

While her tone is light, this is clearly not a ‘whatever’ topic. Carlos reaches for her again. “Mal, I do. I want to be a part-!”

“No you don’t!” She seethes and bares her teeth. Carlos instinctively draws away from her. “You _ran_.”

“You guys were ignoring me,” he mumbles with his head lowered. They had looked so content without him too, perfectly happy with a couple of alphas and a beta. Carlos wasn’t needed.

According to Mal, he still isn’t.

“And the second I turned my attention to you,” she steps closer, invades his space and narrows her eyes, “you hightail it out of there. You bolted, you _left_. So don’t bitch about getting ignored because you ran as soon as I called for you.”

“I…” Carlos lowers his gaze to their feet. “I…I couldn’t stay.”

“You wouldn’t.” Mal takes a deep breath and puts distance between them. “Listen,” she says too softly, “you can still hang out with us and whatever, but I know where we stand now. Later, Carlos.”

His heart pangs at hearing his name. Mal called him _Carlos_. Not ‘ _C_ ’ or ‘ _Los_ ’ or ‘ _pup_ ’, no affection or endearing term. Just Carlos.

If he hadn’t doubled his suppressant dosage lately, he’d be purring in the middle of the road.

* * *

Jay bumps into him later in the week. “Sup?”

Carlos smirks and nudges him back. “How’s your throat?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” The alpha’s neck is still dark with bruises from Mal. “Are you talking to her yet?”

Mal had stayed clear of Carlos since their talk. She hasn’t avoided him, but she hasn’t sought him out either. The tension is clearly wearing down Evie though. After being around Mal in her rut and baring her throat, she’s become more attached to the alpha. Evie won’t just leave Carlos though and her subtle disobedience to Mal is making her anxious.

Jay, on the other hand, isn’t trying to please Mal and submit to her. He is his own alpha and has no issue with keeping close to Carlos.

“No,” he huffs and stops at his locker. “I…I don’t want to disappoint her. I don’t like…her being upset with me.”

“So then make it up to her,” Jay says as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Mal’s pissy because she thinks that you don’t want to be a part of her group. But if you do want that,” he stops and looks at Carlos, waits for the eager nod, “then you need to show her that. Change her mind about where your loyalties lie.”

Carlos bristles at _loyalties_. As if there is anyone else on this Isle who he would be loyal to. Hasn’t he been perfectly loyal to Mal?

He has tried to make it up to her too. Or, well, Carlos has thought about it. Nothing he comes up with seems _grand_ enough for Mal. She’s done so much for him, for all of them. She’s provided more than just protection: she offers reassurance and consistency, she sacrifices herself in order to keep the three of them under her safety. What could Carlos do for her, how could he atone for the pain he caused her? Do her homework? Bring her art supplies?

Evil, he can’t even make a proper nest. There’s nothing Carlos can do to show his loyalty to Mal.

“Dude, Mal _wants_ you in the pack. Her pack…our pack. Whatever.” Jay shrugs. It’s clear he isn’t quite sure where he stands with the rift between Mal and Carlos either. “You’re smart and you’ve done everything she wants you to. You just have to convince her that _you_ want it too.”

“How?”

Jay grins, though it looks rather pained. He touches the sore skin of his throat and glances at Carlos. “Find her an omega. That would make her pretty damn happy.”

* * *

Anger never got him anywhere. Neither did self-pity.

But damn it, why can’t he ever catch a break?

Against his logical judgement, Carlos knocks loudly on the wood of his treehouse. He’s caught many breaks over the years: befriending Evie, connecting with Jay, being of use to Mal for a while. Even being an omega had come with a bit luck. No one was around for his first heats, Carlos found a formula for a supplement just in time, he had Evie to help him pick up materials and Jay who would go out and steal what else Carlos needed.

Even now…being an omega could work to his favor. Maybe.

Carlos squeezes his pencil tighter and rubs the back of his neck. The paper in front of him is folded down the center, the left column labeled _pros_ and the right column reading _cons_ because Carlos is making a list…

About whether or not to tell Mal he’s an omega.

The very idea gives him a stomachache and a headache and chills all at once. Carlos could fuck up his whole life with this idea.

Omegas who were claimed on the Isle are well off, though. Kind of. Gaston’s leash on LeFou is tight and unbreakable and Lady Tremaine’s possessiveness of her daughter prevented anyone from coming too near. They’re comfortable, Carlos thinks. He hopes.

But they’re also…just omegas to their alphas. LeFou is, well… Carlos has heard the rumors about what occurs at Gaston’s Tavern at night. Alphas who pay for more than just alcohol and Gaston who doesn’t mind _sharing_ LeFou. It’s uncommon and LeFou is cared for – he has food and clothing and affection – but he’s a toy to his alpha, not a human.

Anastasia is better. Lady Tremaine is eerily similar to the Evil Queen and believes no one on the Isle is good enough for her daughter. Anastasia is kept tightly away, escorted by her mother or sister everywhere she goes. She isn’t hidden away, but she isn’t free. She’s not a human either.

Mal would be better though…right? Surely, Mal wouldn’t want to sell him off for money, she’s far too possessive. Granted, she’s never interacted with an omega before. Carlos has no idea how Mal would react, what her alpha instinct would have her do. At least Mal’s vicious reputation would scare away any other young alpha from trying to take an omega for their own.

Not full grown alphas though. Carlos shivers at the idea of Mal fighting Clayton or Jafar or…even Cruella.

He drops his pen to fist his hair. Shit.

If he tells Mal, he puts her at risk too.

Well, only if she agreed to take him back. If she looks at him with disdain, decides Carlos is too untrustworthy after having kept such a large secret for too long or thinks he’s a burden with high needs and little to offer, Mal could toss him aside and tell everyone his secret.

She wouldn’t do that. At least, Carlos doesn’t think she would. Mal is never intentionally mean to any of them, but if she’s already mad with him…

Carlos whines and soothes down his hair with repetitive strokes.

What if she’s disgusted by him? Mal could see a…a…a _whore_. She could see him as desperate and dirty and willing to sully himself with others. That’s all Cruella ever saw in omegas.

Not that Carlos would do any of that! But…if he weren’t on suppressants and his heat came around…

Shit. He’s purring again, the low rumble echoing around his treehouse. Carlos grits his teeth and holds his breath. Despite the double dosage he’s been taking the past week in order to counter all of the emotions from being rejected, it’s not quite enough to take away the abandonment. He’s lonely and after having friends, a potential pack, for so long, the pain is too much.

Carlos pulls Evie’s pillow tighter to his chest and rubs at his wrists.

Telling Mal could lead to her being overjoyed and claiming him ( _pushing Carlos to his knees, biting his throat, praising what a good omega he is_ ) or she could sneer and walk away.

Even if she agreed to take him back and make him part of her pack, what if the word got out? How would Jay react? How would Evie? She’d realize that Carlos stole from her for his own suppressants and then couldn’t even trust her with his secret.

What if Mal and Jay made him go off of his suppressants? Carlos has been taking them for almost a year, if he goes off of them now, his heat and scent would be strong enough to inform the whole Isle.

If Cruella ever knew, she wouldn’t let _any_ alpha keep him.

Dreamily, Carlos thinks about telling Mal his dirty secret and then Mal buying him from Cruella. It would make his mother happy, she would never bother him again and he could stay with Mal or Evie or Jay and Carlos would never endure her screaming again.

And he’d be an object to be sold and traded and bought. It’s exactly how any potential pack would see him.

Could that be worth it all though? A protected and claimed toy is a better life than an opened, hidden omega…right?

When Carlos opens his eyes – and when did he close them? – the list before him is easily unbalanced. The risks of telling Mal outweigh any possible benefit.

Carlos tosses the pillow away from him. This was a stupid idea. Of course he can’t tell Mal. He can’t tell anyone.

“Idiot.” He hits his palm to his forehead. Why did he even make a list? Oh evil, why would he ever put _any of this in writing_?

The purring has ceased completely – and, really, Carlos needs to get that under control. He needs to get used to being alone – so it’s safe to creep out of his treehouse with the paper clenched in his hands.

Destroying the evidence is easy: Carlos will burn it to ashes. Hades knows there’s always at least one lighter in Hell Hall at any given time, but if Cruella ever discovered Carlos took one, especially _outside_ , he wouldn’t walk for days. Carlos could trip and break it on the cement or a speck of dirt could land on the lighter. He shakes his head.

No, he’ll burn the paper in their sink and place the lighter back where he found it. It’ll all take less than a minute. There are fewer risks in taking the list into the house rather than sneak a lighter outside.

Carlos looks at the paper crumbled in his fist and scowls. He knows all about taking risks.

Jasper and Horace are out on their own. Carlos hasn’t seen them since Cruella casually mentioned whoring him out to the men thankfully. Word has it, there is some kind of sale in the marketplace today. Cruella is there, shopping for clothes instead of food, no doubt.

But when Carlos holds the list over the sink in one hand and Cruella’s treasured red lighter in his other hand, he hears the front door slam open.

“ _Boy!_ ”

He jumps so violently that the lighter drops into the sink. Carlos can’t risk lighting anything on fire in the house, not with his mother around, but he just can’t leave the list out in the open either.

Even though he had been careful to never write the word _omega_ , Cruella cannot read this list.

A quick look around shows the drawer by the sink to be the best bet. Carlos opens, shoves the crinkled list inside and closes the wooden drawer as fast as he can.

There is hardly time to catch his breath before Cruella stomps into the kitchen, gritting her teeth.

“Hello mother.”

“What are you doing?”

“The dishes.” It’s an easy lie that Carlos doesn’t even need to think about. Any time he’s standing before the sink, he’s washing dishes.

Cruella sneers at him. “Really?”

Carlos recoils and looks back at the sink, where her lighter is still sitting but Cruella can’t see that from the doorway. There are no dirty dishes to be done and none drying as if he had just washed them.

Damn.

“Don’t lie to me? What were you _really_ doing?”

He tries not to tremble. If his mother comes over and sees her lighter in the sink, Carlos won’t be able to pick himself up off the kitchen floor. There hasn’t been a full separation between he and Evie yet and that thrills Carlos to know Evie won’t choose Mal over him, but he also knows Evie won’t choose him over Mal. She’s been coming around less often, it could be days before Evie finds him on the floor.

“What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

Carlos jumps again. “G-go?” Had Cruella said they were leaving when he hadn’t been paying attention? “Where?”

Cruella bares her teeth and hisses. “We’ve been summoned. We’re going to Maleficent’s.”

The words ring in his head and his feet feel as if they’re cemented to the floor. Which is ridiculous because the kitchen floor is linoleum and Cruella would end the crazy bastard who got cement on her precious floor. Probably with a knife, Carlos muses. Hades knows that she talked about skinning him often enough. Cruella would definitely skin a person if they would hold still long enough. She’d have to knock someone out though. Or, Carlos twists a finger in his hair, cement them to the floor just like he is and ensure they never escape.

It’s not until his scalp is aching and he is yelping that Carlos comes out of his daze.

“Open your damn ears!” Cruella barks and yanks harder on his hair, dragging Carlos out of the kitchen behind her.

“Mother!” He whines pitifully. Cruella usually likes it when he’s pitiful. It makes her…happy, almost. “Please.”

Cruella doesn’t listen to his fretful voice. Her grip in his hair stays constant as she pulls him behind her and out of Hell Hall.

“I know where Maleficent lives!” Carlos grunts. “I can get there on my own!”

“Shut it.”

“Moth-!”

“I said _shut it_.”

Beta or not, that is definitely a command. Carlos groans to himself and follows his mother. She keeps his head low, as if his hair is a leash, and forces him to walk awkwardly behind.

People in the streets whistle and stop and stare. A few even catcall and make lewd remarks. One man Carlos can’t see shouts “face down, ass up, just how he ought to be!”

Everyone laughs.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please let go of me. I’ll walk-.”

The hand gripping his hair tightens and yanks. Carlos loses his balance and falls to his knees.

“Just as pretty on his knees!” Someone hollers.

Cruella leans low and grinds her teeth. “Get up!” She demands. “And keep your mouth shut unless you want to spend the rest of the day with it open,” her fingers grip his chin and squeeze until Carlos’ jaw is forced to drop and the pressure of Cruella’s fingers in his cheeks keep his mouth open, “and on your knees like this.”

She releases his face, but not his hair, and Carlos pushes himself off the ground as quick as he can.

“Let’s go.”

For the rest of the walk to Bargain Castle, Carlos is dragged behind his mother. Walking is stressful and uncoordinated, multiple people stop to point and laugh and the entire trip takes far longer than if Carlos were allowed to just follow beside her rather than be led by his hair.

His mother isn’t usually so public with her humiliation of him. She’s never tried to hide it or tell Carlos to cover his bruises, but she also doesn’t go out of her way to embarrass him outside of the house like this.

Had she seen her lighter in the sink? Is she pissed that Carlos is no longer friends with Maleficent’s kid? Does this summoning to Bargain Castle inconvenience her?

Whatever the reason, when Cruella pounds on the heavy doors of Maleficent’s home, she still hasn’t let go of his hair.

Carlos bites his tongue to avoid pleading for his release. He’s never met Maleficent and he would not like her first impression of him to be some weak little boy who is pushed around by his mother.

…Even if that impression is true.

Whatever Maleficent thinks of him really shouldn’t matter now that Mal has cast him aside. It’s not like Carlos has to be on Maleficent’s good side or try to make himself seem worthy of being Mal’s companion.

The door opens and Carlos has to crane his neck to see because his head is still facing the ground and those are definitely not Maleficent’s trademarked black robes.

“Jafar.” His mother drawls and Carlos stills in her grasp.

“Cruella.” There’s a moment’s pause. “Offspring.”

Carlos is pulled inside by his mother, face burning in shame. His cheeks are no doubt as red as his jacket, but no one can see with his head forced down like it is.

As if Cruella could read his thoughts, she pulls his head up and ignores Carlos’ sharp yelp. She draws her hand away from his hair, scowling at disgust at the black and white strands that followed.

Slowly, Carlos rubs his aching scalp. Cruella pulled out quite a bit of his hair.

He takes a deep breath and finally looks up from the stained carpet to see Jafar and the Evil Queen standing beside their children.

Great.

Carlos doesn’t risk looking at Jay or Evie, even though he can feel the heavy weight of their stares on him. Instead, he studies the carpet again and looks at the walls and the windows and at Mal and the book-.

He turns back to Mal and takes in her gaze. She’s watching him intensely, brows furrowed together and lips pursed.

Evil, just his _presence_ is enough to put her in a bad mood.

Maleficent’s grand voice sweeps over all of them. She’s standing on the staircase and looking fierce, but Carlos knows from Mal’s ranting that Maleficent always tries to make herself appear taller and suddenly she’s not as terrifying.

It’s Maleficent though, so she’s still pretty damn intimidating.

“Auradon is calling our children to them!” She stretches out her arm and points at each of the teenagers before her. “This proclamation calls our sons and daughters off the Isle and to attend _Auradon Prep_!” Maleficent spits the words out like venom.

For as intelligent as he is, it takes a long moment for Carlos to react. The outraged voices of villains and their children alike, Mal’s protesting and Jafar’s disdain clearer than anything else, bring understanding to the news Maleficent just announced.

“They want us to go to Auradon?” Carlos whispers.

“Don’t even think about it,” Cruella crinkles her nose. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Silence!” Maleficent’s voice commands. “Villains, this is our chance to escape this prison! Our children, the spawn of the four most wicked and evil people to walk this earth, will go to this school and break the barrier from the outside!”

“And how will _they_ do that?” Jafar looks at his son, then to Evie and Mal and Carlos, disapproval and disinterest written on his face.

Maleficent waves her hand from her step, as if the details to her crazy plan are trivial. “Mal’s little runt has already broken through the barrier from here already, haven’t you, De Vil?”

Carlos blinks. The Mistress of Evil, ruler of the Isle, the most wicked woman to live has just addressed and he couldn’t care less.

She called him _Mal’s little runt_ , as if Mal has ownership over him. Carlos belongs to her. At least in Maleficent’s eyes.

He risks a glance at Mal, who has her arms folded and glares at her mother.

She just never told her mother about disowning him, Carlos figures. His heart sinks and his eyes burn. He knows better than to hope, damn it. He knows how Mal feels and he shouldn’t be so pitiful about this.

“He did _what_?”

Oh. Cruella must have never discovered what his generator did last year. Shit.

Maleficent flicks her wrist, dismissing Cruella’s question effortlessly. “This will be easier. Go to Auradon, find the fairy godmother and her magic wand.”

“Nonsense,” the Evil Queen rolls her eyes. “A mission like that is too strenuous. Evie could break hair nails or rip her dress.”

“There are more princes in Auradon.” Maleficent doesn’t even turn to her.

The Evil Queen’s eyes light up and she gasps. “How soon can they leave?”

“Hold up!” Mal snaps and steps forward. “What’s in it for us?” She points to herself and then stretches out her arm to include Jay and Evie.

But not Carlos.

Of course not, he knew that. He didn’t expect to be included in ‘ _us_ ’. Why does his chest feel so tight?

Maleficent eyes him wearily. She has realized something is wrong, but not exactly what. “Despite how much I disapprove of your _attachments_ ,” Maleficent narrows her eyes at Jay specifically, “I will allow you to keep your… _pack_.”

Mal opens her mouth, possibly to argue, but she is cut off.

“Jay’s not going.” He clamps a hand on the back of his son’s neck. “He stays here.”

A bitter look settles on Jay’s face: irritation and frustration and suppressed rage. “I have to. More people, the better of a chance we have to make this work.”

Jafar growls and Jay growls back, teeth bared by both of them.

“You will stay.”

“I will _not_.”

“Don’t you dare challenge me.”

“Or what, old man?”

A ringing crack silences everyone, but it’s not Jafar’s hand on his son’s face. Maleficent has slammed her scepter down on the ground, calling all attention back to herself. “What’s better,” she sneers at Jafar, “forcing submission from an alpha or finding Jasmine and taking back what’s rightfully yours, hmm?”

Jafar sighs, but doesn’t lunge for Jay again.

“All four of them leave. Today. The sooner we get you all there, the less time Auradon has to prepare.” Maleficent smirks and the sight gives Carlos chills.

“He’s not going.” Cruella doesn’t bother looking at her son. “Carlos stays here. With me.”

A pause settles throughout the room before Maleficent cackles. “Of course, _beta_ ,” she mocks. “How silly of me to not ask for your input.” She rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers at Carlos. “Runt, go pack what you need. Be quick.”

“I said he’s not going.” Cruella hisses. “You can take your high and mighty alpha-ness and shove it up your ass. Carlos stays with me.”

“He already broke the barrier, he’s going.”

Cruella places a hand on his neck and squeezes. “He’s my child, he stays.”

“Listen, _beta_ , you will have no say in this.”

“You’re hardly an alpha,” Cruella muses as she looks pointedly at the step Maleficent stands on. “I don’t cater to you.”

“Why you insolent-!”

Carlos breaks his mother’s grip and steps forward. “Mal,” he calls because she’s huddled with Evie and Jay in the corner. “Mal…what…what do you want?”

She looks at him with raised brows and Carlos realizes that everyone else is watching him too.

“What…do you want me to do?” He asks and takes another step toward her. “Do I stay or do I follow you?”

Mal’s eyes narrow and she blinks at him. “What?”

Carlos gulps. “What do you want me to do?”

“I…” Her eyes flicker as if she wants to look around the room and decide based off everyone’s reactions, but Mal’s eyes come right back to his face. “You…” She steps closer, looks Carlos up and down.

“Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

Mal studies him for the briefest of seconds before nodding. “You come with us.”

His shoulders immediately drop and Carlos can finally breathe. The finality in the alpha’s decision has lifted the weight of this burden from him and eased his racing mind.

Carlos, true to his word, will obey whatever Mal asks. Mal is in charge, Mal is making decisions, Mal will make everything okay.

“Well, well, well,” Maleficent sings. Carlos jumps. He had…forgotten other people were in the room besides he and Mal. The tranquility of surrendering to Mal is broken and Carlos is standing straight at Maleficent’s tone. “I suppose that settles it. The four of you will go. Find Fairy Godmother and her wand. Use it to bring down the barrier once and for all. Then all of your offspring will be returned to you for you to do as you please.” Oh shit, Carlos just knows she’s looking at Cruella. “But ensure that they all are fit for their mission. It wouldn’t do to have them all fail.”

There are sharp footsteps behind him and Carlos tries not to flinch when he feels jagged nails against his scalp and a fist in his hair again. He can barely catch the wide eyes of Mal and Jay and Evie before he is pulled away.

Cruella drags him back to Hell Hall, snarling at the people who taunt and cat call. She moves faster now, Carlos tripping to keep up with the hold she has on him, and doesn’t loosen her grip when Carlos begins to whimper in pain and his tears streak his cheeks.

“You fucking brat!” She seethes up the steps. “I can’t believe you would disrespect me like that in front of all those people!” Cruella shoves him inside and Carlos lands on his hands and knees. “You have no idea how difficult it was to be respected as a beta running my own company and how hard I had to work to be taken seriously as a villain!”

“Mother, I-.”

Her foot flies into his face and catches Carlos in his chin. He yelps and covers mouth, where blood is spilling over from his bitten tongue.

“The image I’ve worked for, the effort I put in to be feared, all ruined because my bitch of a son wants some alpha’s cunt. How am I to be respected if my own son doesn’t fear me?” Cruella stomps on his shoulders and sends Carlos to the ground, lying flat on his stomach. “Thank evil I wasn’t an _omega_. I wouldn’t have been able to do a damn thing but spread my legs like a bitch in constant heat.

Carlos can feel the tremors of her shiver through the foot on his spine.

Cruella hauls him to his feet by the back of his shirt.

“Those fools in Auradon don’t care for betas either, so watch out for the alphas there. They won’t take you seriously, boy. Then again, they probably shouldn’t.” In a rare moment of affection, her expression softens and she soothes down his hair and holds his cheek.

Oh no. No no no no no no. These are always the worst.

“Listen to me, Carlos Oscar.” Shit, shit, why is she using his name? “I may not be able to hurt you before you leave and risk you succeeding in bringing down the barrier and freeing us all,” Cruella plays with a ringlet of curls by his ear, “but the moment I have you back, you will regret embarrassing me like that, do you understand?”

Carlos nods.

“I don’t think you do.” Cruella coos at him and squeezes his cheek with her nails. “But you will. I have a farewell present for you.”

* * *

Half an hour later, Carlos is trembling outside of Castle Across the Way. When Evie spots him, she pales and grabs his wrist.

_Hydrogen. Helium. Lithium._

“Carlos, what…” She looks closer as his chest where his shirt is torn and then whimpers. “Cruella.”

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to.

Evie gives his hand a gentle squeeze and pulls him along. She doesn’t say anything about his little trash bag of clothes, even if the people on the street snicker.

_Beryllium. Boron. Carbon._

“Holy shit, man,” Jay flinches when they approach him outside of Bargain Castle. “That looks like it hurts.” Which is saying a lot when Carlos looks at Jay’s bruised face. He has a black eye and dried blood under his nose, but there’s no bite of submission on his throat.

Jay reaches out to touch him, but Carlos recoils back. “That bad, huh?”

No. Maybe. Carlos hasn’t looked at it yet. The touch of an alpha would break the very fragile control he has right now. Carlos can’t risk that.

_Nitrogen. Oxygen. Fluorine._

“We’ll get ice on it when we get to Auradon,” Evie promises. She assesses Jay with narrow eyes. “Please tell me your father looks worse.”

“Oh yeah,” Jay stretches his arms lazily above his head. “He won’t be walking right for at least a day. Don’t you worry about me, princess.”

_Neon. Sodium. Magnesium._

There’s a limousine further up the path. Villains and their kids crowd around it in curiosity.

Carlos is the only one of his friends to have any familiarity with a car because his mother is one of the few villains to own one. He gestures to the trunk and Jay and Evie follow him, tossing their suitcases inside with Carlos’ plastic bag.

“Go sit inside,” Evie tells them in a whisper. “I’ll stay here and wait for Mal. I’ll make sure nobody takes our stuff.”

_Aluminum. Silicon. Phosphorus._

There’s not an ounce in him that is willing to argue with her right now, so Carlos allows himself to be herded into the backseat of the limo, crashing into the velvet seat and drawing his knees up to his chest, careful not to touch his freshly scarred skin.

 _Sulfur. Chlorine. Argon_.

“Pup?” Jay calls softly. “What did she…how did she…?”

Carlos swallows and shakes his head.

“Okay, man. You don’t have to tell me.”

His eyes slip shut and Carlos leans his head against the window. The cold glass against his face is so refreshing and the sweet smell of the limo is almost enough to drown out the burning scent on him.

 _Potassium. Scandium. Titanium_.

The calm of the limo must have lulled him into a peaceful state because Carlos jolts alert when the door finally closes.

Mal stares at him with an intense scowl. “Let me see.”

 _Vanadium. Chromium. Manganese_.

Carlos tips his head back, winces at the stretch of his skin. Mal’s fingers don’t dare to touch it, but she brushes underneath.

On his skin, just under his collar bone, is _Cruella De Vil_ is messy cursive. It had been a metal stamper, one Carlos has polished many times, from her fashion days. By dipping it in ink, she approved designs and model shows, she hired and fired employees, she agreed to business proposals and company expansions.

By holding it above her lighter – the one she screeched at finding in the sink – she seared her signature into Carlos skin permanently.

A place he would constantly see it, but easily hidden as to not draw attention to himself in Auradon.

 _Iron. Cobalt. Nickel_.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Mal seethes.

“It wasn’t his fault!” Jay snaps from his seat. “Cruella is the one who-.”

“I know.” Mal raises her hand to silence the other alpha. “But why would _you_ ,” she grips Carlos’ chin, “do that? Why piss her off?”

 _Zinc. Gallium. Germanium_.

“I…didn’t…mean to,” Carlos exhales. He closes his eyes again. “I didn’t think.”

“Clearly.”

“Mal!” Evie’s disapproving tone is clear. “Stop. That’s not Carlos’ fault. Cruella is mental, anything could have pushed her over the edge.”

 _Arsenic. Selenium. Bromine_.

Carlos is so weary, he can’t resist the urge to nuzzle Mal’s palm. “I’m used to…looking to you for orders. You’re my…”

She cups his face delicately. Mal cradles his cheek like Carlos is something precious to her. Evil, that’s what he’s wanted for so damn long. “Don’t ever do anything to put yourself in danger like that again,” she says. Carlos can see the scowl through his closed eyelids. “Not even to prove yourself to me.”

 _Krypton. Rubidium. Strontium_.

A feeble noise, almost like a laugh, escapes his mouth. “It wasn’t to prove myself. I just…I look to you for orders.” Carlos wearily opens his eyes.

“I know that now,” Mal sighs.

“Good. That’s all I wanted.”

Mal studies him for a long while, then takes her hand from his cheek. “Alright. Everyone eat,” she nods to the food on the shelves, “or sleep. We’ll be in Auradon soon. And they have hell to pay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 down, 1 to go!
> 
> What was the worst part of this chapter? Cruella's branding? Carlos getting led around the Isle by his hair? Jasper and Horace being creeps? I'd love a review!
> 
> Who do you think number 5 will be? I'll let you know, it's not Ben.


	5. Auradon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 494 kudos? You guys blow me away, thank you so much!
> 
> It was a lot of fun to see who you all thought would be the next person Carlos lies to. The most popular answer was Fairy Godmother, followed by Audrey, it's so interesting to see where you all think this story will go!
> 
> This chapter has been a struggle because so much changes. The four are in Auradon now and I need to address the changes in Auradon, the events of the movie, Carlos' struggle. I'm honestly not sure how I feel about this chapter, so I would really appreciate a comment. Tell me what scenes moved too fast or dragged on, what needs to be explained further, etc.
> 
> Please see the end of the chapter for an important Author's Note.

“I still think this is bullshit.” Jay snaps as they stalk up the halls. The dried blood under his nose is gone to reveal minor swelling, but nothing broken. His right eye hasn't gotten any better or worse in the half hour since they left the Isle. “Why are we all separated?”

“You heard Fairy Godmother,” Evie reminds lightly. “Students are separated by gender and role. They won’t let a beta and alpha share a room.”

“It’s bullshit. We’re not gonna fuck like rabbits or anything.”

Carlos flushes, but no one notices. “My room is coming up.” Judging by the twitchy guy with glasses up ahead, Carlos can guess which door is his.

Although his shirt is ripped where Cruella yanked it down to burn him, Evie fastened it back together with a safety pin after to hide it. Showing a weakness so early in Auradon wouldn't do. Evie also had a small first aid kit in her packed bag, which she took out of the trunk and into the limo for him.

Mal had been the one to very gently bandage the wound and Carlos had stayed perfectly still, trying not to let the tears fall with every poke and prod.

Still, the guy with glasses looks at Carlos’ torn shirt longer than necessary. So did everyone outside. “Uh, hi,” he says as the four Isle kids walk up to him. He looks at Jay and his bruised face, blanches, and then looks back to the much smaller Carlos. “You’re Carlos, right?”

“Yeah,” he shifts his weight and looks up at the Auradon student. “You’re Doug?”

“Y-yep!” He rocks forward, thumb in his suspenders. “Dopey’s son!” Doug looks at the others nervously, but makes no comment on their presence.

Carlos knows why he is the first one to get dropped off. The other three are still in shock over Cruella’s burn on his chest. They want to ensure he gets to his room safely, check out the person he’ll be living with, force Carlos to lay down and relax.

It’s kind of nice. Carlos can’t risk indulging them and trying to rest in his new room, but it’s nice.

“So, son of Dopey,” Evie nearly purrs. “I’m the daughter of the Evil Queen.” She outstretches her hand.

Doug looks like he might faint, just to wake up and kiss her boots. It’s the same reaction a lot of guys have to Evie. “N-n-nice to meet you.” He shakes her hand.

“I’m sure it is.” Evie smiles at him and places a hand on Carlos’ shoulder. “Doug, could you be a dear and make sure Carlos rests before dinner? He’s tired from the ride and we like for him to be in good condition.”

Carlos would bristle at her words if he wasn’t so distracted by her fingers trailing circles on his spine.

At first, he’s peeved she would place in him in Doug’s care and imply that he is  _weak_ , give Doug the idea that Carlos could be overpowered, but he picks up on her subtle words.

_Good condition_.

She is being as sweet as a flower, warning Doug that any new bruises or scraped will be noticed and not tolerated. She is ensuring Carlos' safety, lest Doug be blamed for any mishaps.

Carlos can take care of himself, he’s not weak and stupid.

But it’s still nice for Evie to look out for him.

“Yes ma’am. I mean, uh, yes Evie. Sure, um, ahem,” Doug plays with his bow-tie and opens the door. “Carlos, your bed is the one on the left, you can come in and-.”

“How about you run inside for minute, hmm?” Mal suggests, but it’s clear by her tone that it’s not up for debate. “We need to chat with Carlos for just a minute. Then he can rest and you two can bond over…whatever it is boys and betas do.”

“Uh, well, actually, I’m not supposed to-.”

“Tick tock.”

Doug turns and shuffles back in the room, closing the door behind him.

“So, what’s the plan?” Carlos asks softly. “We’ll all be able to meet up for dinner, right? That’s wha-.”

Mal holds up her hand and ceases his flurry of questions. “We’ll meet up together later today, no matter what Auradon says.” She vows, then looks at Jay for a moment with a raised brow. “Who’s first?”

Jay sweeps his arm out. “Ladies first, of course.”

She turns back to Carlos, face expressionless. “You’ve earnt your place back.” She says, trailing her fingers on his shirt, just under where she cleaned and bandaged him and his flesh is still searing from Cruella’s burn. “I’m…sorry that happened to you. That’s not what I wanted.”

Carlos shrugs and swallows. It was worth the pain, one hundred times over. As long as he found his place with Mal again, every pain was a worthy price.

“But you’re mine, right? Ours?”

It’s difficult to break eye contact with an alpha, but Carlos looks over to Jay, who is simply watching him, then to Evie, who smiles at him.

The wounded flesh on his chest burns. “Yes.” He swallows again. “Please.”

“Good.” With that, Mal’s eyes darken. She grabs a fistful of his shirt and yanks Carlos closer, nose trailing along his collar and throat. She rubs her cheek against his skin, his neck and under his chin.

Carlos gasps.

She is scenting him.

A whine escapes his throat before he can think about it. This…is not what he was expecting. Not at all.

Mal snickers, nips at his collar bone and Carlos swears he can even feel her tongue on his Adam’s apple. Her hair tickles his skin, tangled and un-brushed, but soft and cool. She nuzzles his throat, caresses her cheek along his jaw, imprinting her scent onto his skin, claiming him, announcing to all who came near that Carlos is hers.

Carlos’ eyes fall shut and he whimpers at the attention, the implication of carrying Mal’s scent and  _belonging_ to her. “A-Alph-pha.”

His double dosage of suppressants since Mal’s abandonment is being quickly overridden. His knees are weak, his legs are boneless. He can smell Mal, her perfume, the leather of her clothes, the  _alpha_  in her and Carlos can’t even breathe right.

Which is a good thing. If he weren’t so breathless, he would be moaning.

Finally, just as he is about to sink to his knees – and Carlos doesn’t know if that’s because his legs are so weak or because the need to kneel and submit is so strong he can taste it – Mal pulls away.

Instantly, Carlos wishes to pull her back, regain that contact with her, but he doesn’t. He’s not in charge.

Mal smirks, clearly pleased with the state she has pushed him into.

Though he can’t see his expression, Carlos is sure he looks pretty pleased himself.

“Everyone will be able to smell me on you. Especially any alphas here.” Mal explains because the olfaction of betas is nonexistent compared to that of alphas and she’s assuming Carlos can’t smell anything different, but he can smell her and only her, despite the feet of distance between them. It makes him dizzy.

Carlos gulps. He should say something, right? Why can’t he speak?

She grins, happy with his attitude. “You’re welcome.”

Jay steps forward with a smirk as Mal steps back. “You okay?”

Shakily, Carlos nods. He can’t quite find his voice.

“Can I scent you too?”

That’s the difference between Jay and Mal. They are both in charge, both strong and quick and confident, but Mal is more so. Or, at least, Jay holds back more than she does. He is every bit as strong and quick and confident, but he pulls back.

_Jafar_ , Carlos thinks as he nods and Jay steps closer. Jay is like this because of his father.

As soon as Jay’s mouth touches his throat, all thoughts of Jafar fly from Carlos’ mind.

The alpha’s teeth scrape over his skin, not biting but marking, scratching with his canines. He cups the back of Carlos’ head with one hand, the other resting on his shoulder.

Carlos tips his head back, leg strength disappearing once more. He reaches for the wall behind him, shuffling backwards to lean against it for some sort of support because his bones have become mush. The hard plaster meets his back, holding him up, as Carlos bites on his tongue hard enough to draw blood.

Jay nuzzles his throat and neck, paying certain attention to his collar, but never going too close to the still searing skin. He is gentle and slow, reading Carlos’ body language, and taking care to not jostle his shirt and rub against the burn.

By some miracle, Carlos still can’t find his voice and he doesn’t need to worry about moaning or whimpering or whispering Jay’s name over and over again.

His head is fuzzy with the proximity, the scent of an alpha on him. And the scent won’t fade, not for days. It will linger on Carlos’ skin, allowing all to know that he has been  _claimed_ , he has alphas, he  _belongs_.

“Jay,” Evie calls sweetly. “We’re short on time.”

Evil, how long has Jay been rubbing his neck and licking his collar bone? How long has Carlos been gripping his shoulders because his pathetic knees were trembling too badly?

With pink cheeks, Jay pulls back and looks at Carlos, who has the horrible urge to avert his gaze and duck his head like a behaved omega should. “You good?”

Carlos nods, still mute.

“May I?”

He blinks and looks past Jay to Evie, standing patiently beside Mal, hands clasped in front of her. She smiles warmly at him, waiting for his answer.

“Don’t overboard him,” Mal warns, though she is grinning at Carlos and he feels very much like a mouse that is about to be pounced on.

“Of course not,” Evie agrees with a solemn nod, but a smile plays at her lips. “Carlos?”

Where on earth is his voice? He can only nod his head, fingers scrabbling at the wall behind him.

Evie’s smile widens and she steps to him. “Afterall,” she sings, looking over her shoulder at the two alphas, “I had him first.”

Carlos barely registers the look of surprise on Jay’s and Mal’s faces before he closes his eyes and exposes his throat to the beta.

She is the gentlest and the quickest of the three. Evie cups his face and presses a kiss to his nose, just like she did last year when she promised Carlos would always be a part of her pack, swearing to always take care of each other.

The wall behind him is hardly enough, but Evie is light with her scenting. She rubs her nose along his jaw and over his ear, kissing the skin just beneath. The contact between them is hardly anything, which Carlos is so grateful for because the wall can’t hold him forever, but he also hates because he’s so crazy for Evie, he can’t stand the idea of not touching her right now.

Their cheeks rubs together and Carlos can smell her perfume, so sweet on the Isle but already sour compared to the scents of Auradon.

He hopes it will never fade from his skin.

Just as Carlos thinks he might pass out or collapse or start begging, the beta pulls away and runs a hand through his hair. He follows her hand pathetically as she pulls away.

“Still here?”

He nods, lips pursed shut.

Evie laughs sweetly, sliding away from him delicately and turning to stand with Jay and Mal. “Do you…want to scent any of us?”

Before Carlos can answer, Jay snickers. “Let’s save that for another day. Pup looks like he forgot how to breathe.”

No, he’s breathing just fine. He doesn’t remember how to talk is all.

“Take a second to breathe, relax.” Mal orders him. She looks at him softer, the anger and heat in the limo is gone. “Then go meet the dwarf. He smelt fine to me. Be careful of him though.”

Carlos nods. He can take whatever Doug has to give, the beta can’t be worse than Cruella.

“Since Mal and I don’t have roommates, you can sneak into our dorm anytime, okay?” Jay offers. “We’ll show each other our rooms tomorrow.”

Even the biggest, baddest alphas on Auradon’s campus hadn’t been willing to room with an alpha from the Isle. Jay and Mal had argued that Carlos and Evie should be their roommates respectively, but the Fairy Godmother had refused and the four of them know better than to cause trouble with such a heavy burden on their shoulders.

“We’ll all meet up during dinner, okay?” Evie says and looks at them all. “That’s in less than two hours and we should still have time to check out each other’s rooms.”

They all nod in agreement. Mal, Jay and Evie leave to walk the beta to her room and Carlos is hit with an overwhelming jealousy that the three of them will meet Evie’s roommate, check out her room and declare it safe, without him. He relaxes himself with the reminder that he will be able to see Evie's and Jay's and Mal's room in a short while and check out the dorms himself.

Carlos waits for the three of them to turn the corner, giving one final wave, before hanging his head.

He really must find proper suppressants in Auradon.

* * *

 

Auradon Prep’s library puts Dragon Hall to shame without even trying. The bookshelves are so high, ladders are offered every couple of feet. The shelves along the walls reach all the way to the ceiling. There are rooms just for studying and little benches and couches for idle reading.

“Dude,  _chill_.” Jay laughs in his ear. “You both look like you’re about to come in your pants.”

Carlos flushes and swats at him, but when he catches Evie with her mouth open and eyes wide, he’s sure his reaction to the library was similar.

“Split up,” Mal mumbles casually to them. “Find a book on Fairy Godmother and her wand. I’ll take the north side, Jay takes south. Evie is west and Carlos goes east.” Their group shares a quick look and they all nod.

The four of them have been in Auradon for just a few days now. It’s…intense. But not in the way the Isle is. There are no fighting and the teachers don’t try to grope the students.

But Auradon is bright and overwhelming. People are always smiling and talking to him. Food smells nice, the air is warm, everything is soft and gentle.

It’s intense.

Carlos wanders to the east side of the library. He’s sure he could figure out where the books about magic and wands are if he could study the bar-codes on the spines for a bit, but they have already gotten several strange looks from their classmates, due to lingering scents and overbearing touches. Auradon is more accepting than the Isle of physical affection, but not as public with it. Mal’s arm around Evie’s waist got strange looks, just like Jay and Carlos sitting too close in the cafeteria.

People aren’t suspicious yet, but they could be. The four of them must remain inconspicuous. They must blend in. Don’t give anyone in Auradon a reason to look at them twice.

Along the east wall are books about science, so Carlos is pretty damned please about where Mal told him to go. There are brand new physics books, chemistry books, and-

“Oh Hades!” Carlos gasps as he tugs a book out from the shelf.

It’s  _Mass Transfers in Chemical Engineering_  by H. Lemon and G. Tamogo. A similar book,  _Chemical Engineering and Thermodynamics_ , by the same two authors is in Yen Sid’s class, behind his desk. The professor allowed Carlos to read it when he had completed all of his work early, but the copy on the Isle was not nearly this well-kept. It had water damage and pages missing, but that never stopped Carlos from reading it.

But this book is nearly new! It’s hardback and shiny and all of the pages are in perfect condition! There’s even a plastic book cover with information about the authors on the back! Carlos reads it eagerly. Yen Sid always spoke so highly of both of Lemon and Tamogo, both of them idols in their fields.

Honey Lemon, born in San Fransokyo just before Auradon was created, is a graduate of SFIT – San Fransokyo’s Institute of Technology, Carlos assumes – and a genius in all chemical engineering. The back lists her accomplishments and other works, her degrees and discoveries.

All of it is amazing and impressive, but Carlos’ eyes widen at the little label under picture.

_Omega_.

He brings the book flat against his chest and looks over his shoulder. A few students are lounging in a corner and another girl is on her phone (what is Auradon’s obsession with phones anyway?), but no one is watching him.

Carlos gulps and opens the back again, making sure he read it right.

He did.

Yes, Honey Lemon, respected chemist and engineer, is an omega.

"What?" Carlos breathes, studying the word like he's never seen it before. He just had no idea it could be applied to someone...successful.

When he had packed his bags just days ago, Cruella had mocked him from the ground and called him a  _baby_  for still having a tree house, but Carlos made sure to grab his suppressants and hide them well in his trash bag. Outside of the fact that he  _needed_  them, he couldn’t leave them for someone on the Isle, to find. Surely Cruella has no interest in his little lab, but others would come by quickly to loot whatever he left behind.

Once the barrier is lowered, Carlos will be back with his mother and every other pervert on the Isle and he’s not letting anyone learn his secret while he’s gone. There are better suppressants in Auradon, where actual medicine exists, and Carlos will be sure to grab some before Auradon is up in flames, but he’s okay with what he has for now, especially since he's back to his regular dosage now that Mal has forgiven him and he has found his place with her.

But there is proof in his hands that an omega has succeeded. She went to school, surpassed alphas, made a name of her own. She leads breakthroughs in her field and gives lectures to people who  _want_  to learn from her. Honey Lemon is a scientist Carlos has idolized since the first time Yen Sid handed him one of her books.

He’s looked up to an omega for all these years.

Maybe that's  _why_  he looked up to her for so long. Of course, he had no idea that Honey Lemon was an omega, but he felt drawn to her studies more than other chemists. He always thought it was because she reminded him of Evie with her fashion sense and bubbly personality, but maybe something in him knew?

Carlos keeps the book tight in his hands. Tonight, he will read it cover to cover, embracing every moment and new bit of information, and he owes it all to an omega.

Casually and trying not to draw attention to himself, Carlos wanders along the shelves. There are neat signs listing what books will be contained in each aisle, so he passes until he finds a shelf with books on biology.

He doesn’t need  _How to Make Biology Fun_  or  _101 Creative Experiments!_  Carlos keeps walking until he finds books on…dynamics.

No one else is in this aisle.

No one is watching him.

No one will see.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Carlos peers at the titles, eyes flickering quickly. He doesn’t need to know about the mechanics of sex, the Isle taught that well enough (though he can’t believe Auradon has books on fucking), and he doesn’t need to read the importance of alpha control. Carlos takes a deep breath and keeps moving.

_What to Expect With Your First Heat_

_Presenting as an Omega: How to Handle It_

_Omegas and Their Sensitivities_

Carlos bristles at the last title and scowls. He’s been on suppressants for more than half of a year, but he doesn’t remember being  _sensitive_. That's a ridiculous stereotype.

Well, he kind of had a crisis when Evie stopped talking to him. And he always got flustered when Jay provided for him. And he nearly risked his life for Mal to just look at him after her rut.

It's still a stereotype.

A book on the shelf below reads  _The Importance of Omegas_  and Carlos hesitates before grabbing it. He looks around again to ensure he’s alone ( _breathe, breathe, breathe_ ) and flips through the book.

The chapters range from significant omegas in history to their role in families and in packs to their impact on society. It is thick and heavy in his hands, Carlos is pleased to note, and the list of chapters is so long, it takes up two pages.

With his breath held, Carlos slips  _The Importance of Omegas_  into his backpack and zips his bag up quickly. He takes his bag with him everywhere for the same reason he couldn't leave the suppressants in his tree house. Anyone snooping through his belongings - Doug, a teacher, a maid (because Auradon has people who come in and clean their bed sheets and Carlos really isn't sure what to do with someone cleaning after him) - could find them. In his backpack, he keeps the suppressants close to him, no one will be able to find them unless they get his backpack and Carlos would rather die than allow that to happen.

He takes one last look around to ensure no one saw him and then leaves the aisle with  _Mass Transfers in Chemical Engineering_  under his arm.

“Sup, pup?”

When Carlos turns around to find the voice, he jolts. “Get down from there!” He hisses, quietly stomping over to the bookshelf Jay is currently climbing. “No parkour in the library!”

“Sour puss.” Jay rolls his eyes, but jumps down and doesn’t stumble. “I thought I saw a book about the wand up there!”

Carlos scowls and reads the little sign on the side of the shelf. “Really? This aisle is all about history.” He points at the book closest to him, the spine reading  _The Creation of Auradon_. History isn't anything Jay is interested in. Carlos huffs and looks up to the shelf Jay had climbed up to, just a few feet above his head and scans the titles.

A red book, slightly pulled out from the rest in its group, gets his attention.

_Agrabah, a Historical View_.

Oh.

When he looks at his friend – because Carlos can use that word freely now – Jay is curiously studying the pattern in the wood and not making eye contact.

“Nothing here, huh?”

“Nope,” Jay shrugs and they walk out of the aisle. “We failed at the museum, we fail at finding books.” He huffs as they search out the girls.

“Well…” Carlos sings and nudges him good naturedly. “ _You_  failed at the museum last night,” he mumbles under his breath. “I wasn’t the one who set off the alarm.”

Jay snickers and nudges him back. “No, you're just the one who fixed it. Maybe Mal or Evie have found something.”

As it turns out, they have. Evie holds a large book in her manicured fingers, grinning brilliantly. “It may not tell us how to get the wand,” she whispers in their huddle, “but it could give insight on how to handle it and how to work it.”

Mal nods in approval. “We can’t check that book out of here.” She eyes the group. “Carlos, give me your backpack.”

Instantly, his hands fly to his straps, trying not to hold on too tightly. “Why not just give it to Jay?” He suggests with a twitchy smile. “Make sure his thieving skills haven’t faded in Auradon?”

“Is that a challenge?”

Carlos shrugs and relaxes with the attention off of his backpack. “Maybe. Let’s see how good you are at stealing in Auradon.”

“Gimme!” Jay snatches the book from Evie and he even grabs  _Mass Transfers in Chemical Engineering_  and narrows his eyes at Carlos. “I’ll show you how good of a thief I am.”

* * *

Ben is a beta. Even though Carlos can’t smell anything on anyone, he knows. Ben isn’t aggressive enough to be an alpha. Or, well, Carlos doesn’t think Ben is. He can’t really tell how the alphas here act. Alphas in Auradon don't really seem like alphas at all.

But, looking at Ben stand in the doorway of Jay’s room, Carlos just gets the sense of  _beta_.

 “Here,” he outstretches his hand to Jay. “These are for you and Mal. One for each.”

There is a moment of silence. The four of them don’t have much experience with Auradon people and the king is no exception.

“They’re, uh, suppressants. If you’d like them.”

A second moment of silence passes. Then Mal laughs.

“Cute. Send them back.”

Ben shifts awkwardly on his feet, but smiles warmly at them. He’s fascinating to Carlos. Practically looking into a lion’s den and still thinking he can pet them. “Well, nearly all students are on them. They’re not a requirement, but most students prefer to have ruts or heats in the comfort of their own home during the summer.”

The next silence doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone but Ben.

“But of course, your situation is different! If you’d like to return to the Isle for the summer, that can be arranged, but it isn’t necessary. Whatever you feel most comfortable with.”

“Relax, your highness,” Mal fakes a curtsy. “Don’t worry about what we’ll do for the summer.”

By the time summer comes, they’ll be able to go anywhere. They’ll control every land in the country, if not the world.

Or, their parents will, at least.

“Well, students in ruts aren’t permitted in classrooms, and you’ll miss much of class-.”

“Okay, cool, thanks.” Jay plucks both bottles from Ben’s hand and promptly shuts the door in his face. When he turns around, it is clear that he was done listening to Ben talk and growing frustrated of an intruder in his room.

“You ought to be nicer to him,” Evie scolds Jay from the desk where she is painting her nails. “Ben is royalty. He’s also the reason we’re over here.”

“So when we overthrow him and his family and take over the country, we’ll make sure to send him a  _thank you_  card.” Mal says from the empty bed.

Neither Jay nor Mal have roommates, so almost all of their free time is spent huddled in one of their rooms. The unoccupied bed has books and clothing belonging to all of them, a shared space in Jay’s room for when they hole up in there.

More than once, after something new in Auradon particularly rattles him that day, Carlos has caught himself in that bed, strategically moving and folding the clothing based on scent and feel and familiarity. He arranged the softest on one side because Evie loves plush blankets and anything with purple on the other because, well,  _Mal_ , and then promptly berated himself once he realized what he was doing and reminded himself on the ridiculousness of nests.

Auradon is just so intense.

“Whatever, at least he went away.” Jay places the two bottles on the stand without a second look.

“Are you…going to take them?” Carlos asks, rubbing his wrist in small circles.

Jay scoffs. “Of course not. I’ll throw them out later.” He pauses and turns to Carlos. “Unless you want them? For, you know, Cruella.”

Carlos tries not to flinch. He’s gone a whole week without getting hit or dragged or scratched, but her signature still aches on his chest, it is the only thing he can focus on when he undresses, mocking him in the giant, clean mirrors of Auradon bathrooms.

It doesn’t matter how often Mal or Jay or Evie scent him. Cruella’s burn on him is everlasting, it won’t fade in time.

She marked him first. She marked him permanently.

“It doesn’t matter.” Mal snaps at them. “When the barrier is gone, so is Cruella.”

The burn has been a sore topic with Mal, they all avoid it when they can, but Carlos realizes he has his hand over the scar, shielding it from view, even under his shirt. “What do you mean?”

“She won’t touch you again.” Mal says simply.

There are no details or explanation, but Carlos relaxes.

If his alpha says it, it must be true.

"Just...don't kill her. Please."

In the end, Carlos still takes the bottles of suppressants with him. He lies to Mal and Jay easily, so easily it terrifies him, and says he wants to study their chemical components for fun.

And they don’t question him, not even with a lingering look. They even go as far as to rub their noses along his throat to reinforce their scent on him, Evie too, before any of them let him leave. They fully trust him.

“Carlos, I’m going to shower. Do you need to use the bathroom first?”

Doug is considerate and that might be because he’s from Auradon and they teach that or because Jay and Mal and Evie are horrifying to people who don’t know them.

Regardless of his reasoning, Doug is okay. He’s not violent or mean or arrogant.

Doug is…kind of cool, actually. Carlos is two years younger than him, so hey normally wouldn't be roommates, but Carlos is pretty sure that Doug was the only person to not refuse to room with an Isle kid. Probably because he's a pushover. But, luckily, it means that Doug has his old text books and notes the he allows Carlos to use and he has some cool physics documentaries. He even gushed about Lemon and Tamogo when he first saw  _Mass Transfers in Chemical Engineering_  laying on Carlos’ bed.

“No, I’m okay.” Carlos swallows. “Thank you, though.”

Doug grabs his belongings and moves to the bathroom. The shower starts up in a few seconds, but Carlos can still hear the  _click_  of the lock.

Right, they're not friends. Carlos is an Isle kid. He’s a lowlife villain.

Carlos shakes his head and quickly pulls out his backpack from under the bed. Doug usually takes six and a half minutes in the shower, but as long as twenty-three minutes in the bathroom, so Carlos must use his time wisely.

_The Importance of Omegas_  sits heavily in his lap. Carlos keeps the title hidden in case Doug comes wandering out unexpectedly.

He doesn’t know where to start, so Carlos turns to the table of contents. He skims the list and immediately berates himself for grabbing such a large book. The longer he keeps it in his possession, even in his backpack, the more likely it is for someone else to find it. He won’t be able to read this book as quickly as he read the three books on the Isle.

But time is of the essence. Carlos decides on  _The Importance of Heats_  because, well…it’s been on his mind a lot. Recently. Ever since the scenting.

Sometimes he wonders what it would be like to have another heat, but for Mal and Jay and Evie to be by his side. He won’t nest because that’s stupid, but he could scent them. He could kneel before them, rest his head on Evie’s thigh as she does her makeup in the mirror, or on Mal’s hip when she flips through her mother’s spell book. He knows what alphas and betas do with an omega in heat and...it's hard not to obsess over.

It can’t happen for obvious reasons, but Carlos just likes to wonder. It’s a waste of time and thought, but there are days where he wonders what it would be like if Cruella loved him or if he didn’t live on the Isle or if he never presented.

He’s just curious is all.

This particular chapter doesn’t seem to offer anything new to him. Carlos skims through, passing over words like  _submissive_  and  _dependent_. Just as he’s about to turn back to the table for something more substantial, a word jumps out at him.

_Drops_.

Carlos glances at the bathroom door, pleased to hear the shower still running. He begins reading from the top of the page.

It talks about emotionally trying experiences, like heats or death or just horrible days, and how omegas experience a crash as their adrenaline lowers.  _A rollercoaster of emotions_  is what the book calls it and though Carlos doesn’t know what a rollercoaster is, he begins to understand it.

He reads over the symptoms: depression, low self-esteem, fatigue, immobility, cold sweats.

That describes the majority of his life. At least, on the Isle. He was always panicked about something, always lacking sleep, always too cold.

But drops are…familiar. Not just in the way life on the Isle is. This description makes sense. He’s dropped before.

Right after his first trip with Jay and Mal and Evie, back when he was figuring out suppressants and he was sure Evie hated him and he had to admit Cruella never loved him and he thought for a minute that Mal was dead.

He had come home, to Hell Hall, and sank to the floor. He had been so tired, so weak. He had started purring, but he didn’t know why at the time. There was no pain from the journey, no new injuries, nothing to be sad about.

Carlos had been unable to move once he hit the floor, purring and huddled in on himself feebly.

The excitement and terror and relief and loneliness had just been so much. When he had a moment to be alone and process it all...he had dropped.

That hadn’t been the first time either. He remembers the familiarity of that situation, remembering he must have dropped before their search for Maleficent’s scepter.

It takes a moment to recall his first heat, nearly a year and a half ago now, and the whirlwind that came with it all.

Without food and comfort and a person with him, he had dropped. It’s hard to remember his first heat, partly because of the time that has passed and partly because his head was so foggy for it all. Probably because of dropping, Carlos muses.

According to  _The Importance of Omegas_ , drops should always be done with someone around. There needs to be another person to ensure the omega eats and drinks and rests, piling on praises and physical affection.

Without someone, a drop could last days, even a week.

His first drop, after his first heat, must have gone on for his whole heat. He hadn't been able to do more than crawl for days.

But the second one was only a few hours before Evie came to check on him. If she hadn't, there's no telling how long Carlos would have been stuck in a drop.

That’s terrifying. It’s so gut-wrenching that Carlos grins his teeth and tenses on the bed, alone. The vulnerability that comes with heats is terrible, he remembers that, but the weak, dire state of dropping is worse. He dropped,  _twice_ , on an island full of villains. With Cruella, who could drag him into the closet, and Jasper and Horace, who could hold him down and do what they wished, with alphas who could barge their way into Hell Hall and strip him and-.

Carlos feels sick.

The water of the shower turns off, so Carlos estimates he has at least nine minutes before Doug comes back into the room.

He doesn’t feel like reading much anymore though. Carlos tucks the book back into his schoolbag and pushes it under his bed. He’ll risk keeping it for a few days, his book bag is always with him and Carlos can guard it.

If he’s honest with himself, which he always is because he really can’t be with anyone else, Carlos is afraid to keep reading.

* * *

Whoever invented tourney belongs on the Isle

“We get to tackle people!” Jay eagerly rips off his shirt. “And they shoot at us! There’s something called the  _Kill Zone_!” He kicks his pants down to his ankles. “This is like the most violence we’ve been allowed to have here! I can’t wa-… Carlos?”

He jolts at hearing his name. “Y-yeah?”

Jay is standing next to him, practically naked. Due to years of malnutrition, Jay is smaller than the alphas in Auradon, but he still  _looks_  like an alpha. He has muscles and a wide chest. He’s taller than Carlos, not by a lot though. And his underwear…well, it’s not hiding much. “You okay?”

Carlos tries not to flush at how Jay’s lips move around the words. His teeth are nice, his canines are sharp. He would leave some very lovely bites and bruises if he wanted to mark Carlos up. (And if their constant scenting sessions are anything to go by, Jay wants to mark him up.) “Yep.”

Unfortunately, Jay seems to realize Carlos’ exact problem. He winks and tugs a stupid jersey over his head. “I got an empty room man, you can see this whenever you want.”

The shiver leaves Carlos breathless for a moment. He knows Jay and Mal have sex for their ruts and Evie’s growing closer to Mal, but he had never thought about doing anything  _sexual_  with his friends.

Well, that’s a lie. Carlos has thought about it a bit. His daydreaming of what another heat would be like usually led to other thoughts that made his face burn. They’re all around the same age, they’re kind of a pack and packs will typically...do  _sexual things_.

That doesn’t mean Jay and Mal have offered to do anything with him. Or with Evie. They don’t do much with each other outside of their ruts.

Speaking of which, “when is your next rut?”

Jay’s eyes widen and he stops pulling up his blue shorts. “Uh…what?”

“Oh my evil.” Carlos covers his face with his hands. “I wasn’t offering to do anything! I just wanted to know!”

The alpha shifts his weight. “Uh, next month?”

Carlos peeks through his fingers. It’s a good thing his face is still covered, he’s rather disappointed to see Jay is fully dressed in a uniform and he's sure his expression shows it. “So, it’ll happen after we, uh…you know. The plan.”

“At this rate, no.” Jay scoffs and ties his hair back. “We’ll be here for the rest of our lives if we keep going at this pace.”

In silence, Carlos changes. He feels the weight of Jay’s stare on him and it flusters him until he realizes the alpha is watching the make shift bandage under his collar bone, hiding Cruella’s signature. Carlos hadn’t let anyone see it, that’s why they’re hidden in the back of the locker room, but he bandages it after every shower (because Auradon has real medical supplies and first aid kits, just sitting in every dorm, how is that even possible).

Still, burn or not, Jay is watching him undress. It’s exciting.

Which ends up being worse later on.

Out on the field, Carlos glares in the sun. It’s always so bright in Auradon, it hurts his eyes. There are whistles and canons and shouting and before long, his ears hurt too.

He’s dressed in yellow and Jay in blue, which means they’re on opposing teams and that is quite scary because Jay is all alpha – strong and quick and aggressive – and Carlos is all…well. Carlos.

Jay has the ball, and Carlos can assume that the objective of the game is to get said ball by how everyone chases after it, but no one can keep up with Jay, let alone surpass him. He is faster and slicker than the Auradon students who have supposedly been playing this game for years.

A heat builds in Carlos’ chest as he watches Jay move, the omega in him nearly preening at how successful Jay is. His alpha is definitely better than anyone on the field and the two of them are basically in the same pack. It’s exhilarating to watch Jay prove himself as the best.

It’s also causing a certain heat in his face that isn’t from the sun.

Which is why it takes a moment for Carlos to realize that Jay is running right at him, prepared to run through him.

Carlos is supposed to retrieve the ball from Jay for his own team, though he doesn’t understand the purpose or value in getting a ball, but that’s not going to happen. First, Jay is simply an unstoppable force. Second, Carlos can’t move.

An alpha is charging him,  _Carlos’_  alpha is running toward him.

But it’s different from that day with Mal, which seems so much longer ago than it really was. Jay has scented Carlos, he’s not in his rut, they’re not surrounded by perverts and prying eyes, they were  _just_  watching each other undress.

Jay has his teeth bared, despite the fact that they are hidden under the face guard of his helmet. His dark eyes are narrowed and focused. He is intent on conquering.

And Carlos doesn't really mind getting conquered.

He gulps and the shield in his hands drops to the ground just before Carlos does. His knees meet the plastic grass of the turf and his vision is blocked by the bulky helmet, but Carlos has never felt so comfortable in his life. It's like that day in Jafar's shop when he had knelt before Jay, the feeling of tranquility and warmth spreading out to even the tips of his toes.

His head is light and his knees are heavy and Jay looks so good from this angle.

Faintly, Carlos hears the whistle blow just as Jay skids to a stop before him.

Oh, sweet Hades, he's so handsome. Tall and broad and confident and looking down at Carlos like he’s a dessert.

“Alpha.” He breathes and lowers his head.

“Lost boy! Get up!”

Carlos blinks as the words register. He gazes around and realizes the game has stopped, the players are still. The sun is warm and the turf under his hands is rubbery and Jay is looking like he’s been told he can’t have any dessert.

Cheeks burning with shame, Carlos jumps up. The helmet hides enough of his face to offer a little comfort, but he can feel eyes on him, everyone is watching him.

So Carlos runs.

He runs into the locker room and throws his helmet off, cursing up a storm. “Stupid fucking alpha body,” he hisses as he rips off the jersey. “Stupid fucking sports! Stupid fucking Auradon!”

_Stupid fucking omega instincts._

_Stupid fucking homemade suppressants._

_Stupid fucking submission_.

Carlos tears open his locker, putting on his normal clothes and growling to himself.

At least he’s not purring. He’s too angry with himself to purr.

“Hey, Carlos!”

He jumps around, yanking his black and red shirt down over his stomach. Jay is marching in, helmet off and hair sticking to his face like some unfair god that Carlos wants to kneel and worship. Instead, he bites his tongue and glares at the floor.

That doesn’t deter Jay. He walks up and grabs Carlos’ shoulder, shakes him just a bit. “Dude. Carlos.”

“ _What_?” What bullshit excuse can he give this time? Does Jay want to hear again about Cruella making him submit, does he want to hear how Carlos just wanted -  _needed_  - to submit? Carlos is going to stand here and sprout off about his mother and some pitiful lie just so-.

“Can I kiss you?”

Carlos inhales and looks up. Jay is biting his lip and waiting. He’s staring at Carlos, not like he’s a dessert, but as if he is the whole damn  _meal_. “What?”

Jay places his hands on either side of Carlos’ head, keeping him in place, overwhelming with his mere presence. “Can I kiss you?”

He just wants one good thing in his life, he can have that, can't he? “Please.”

Their lips meet in the middle, Carlos too eager to wait for Jay to reach him. It’s his first kiss and it’s awkward and his mouth doesn’t move right and he should have brushed his teeth better this morning, but he’s kissing someone, he’s kissing  _Jay_.

On the tourney field, the sun had been too bright, too warm and overbearing, but now Carlos loves it because kissing Jay is like kissing the sun. It is brilliant and warm and encompassing, surrounding him and heating his skin. His legs are weak because his bones are melting and his eyes are clenched shut because Jay is so bright and shining. Carlos can feel the comfort seeping in from all that is Jay and every chill flees from his body.

Shaky hands fist themselves in Jay’s jersey, desperate for the contact to realize, to  _understand_ , that this isn’t a dream and this is real. Carlos is kissing Jay, he’s kissing his alpha, this is happening, it’s really happening.

Jay’s hands move from the lockers on either side of Carlos to his back, sneakily dipping into the back pockets of his shorts and shamelessly groping. Carlos moans because he’s been thinking about this for so long and this is real life, he has this, he can have something good.

“Gotta put my scent back on you,” Jay seethes against his lips. “Make sure it never fades.” One hand comes up to grip Carlos’ neck, the other hand still in Carlos’ back pocket and pulling them together so no space remains between them and the two of them can rock against one another.

“Yes,” Carlos moans into his mouth, messy and wet and uncoordinated. He risks a bite at the alpha’s lip and is rewarded with a feral noise that has his blood rushing.

Jay pulls back, panting and flushed. His pupils are wide and his eyes are trained on Carlos’ face. “My room?”

“Please.”

* * *

Someone, something, out there in the universe is watching out for Carlos.

Or maybe it’s just because they’re in Auradon and everything is just easier here.

Whatever the cause, Mal and Evie are lounging in Jay’s room, waiting for the two of them to return from tourney practice.

“You two are back early,” Mal’s eyes flicker up from her mother’s spell book, opened on the desk Jay has never used. “That sport or whatever suck too much?”

“No. I mean yes.” Jay drops Carlos’ wrist. “I mean…it was fine. Whatever.” He is flushed and his hair is wild from Carlos’ fingers running through it. His eyes are still dilated and he’s panting – the boys had practically run to Jay’s room, so eager to reach his bed – and his lips are swollen.

Carlos can’t imagine he looks any better.

“What are you guys doing here?” Jay narrows his eyes, clearly displeased with the interruption while Carlos processes the fact that he and Jay were very very close to having sex and has an internal crisis.

The two of them are a mess and the girls pick up on it quickly. “What were you two doing?” Evie asks softly, taking a step back and eyeing them. “You’re both out of breath and your eyes are dilated and,” the beta looks them up and down, her eyes widening before she quickly looks away.

With a tilted head, Carlos looks at Jay. Yeah, he looks rugged and wild, but-

Oh.

Jay has a boner.

And, when Carlos looks down, he is in the same state.

He gasps and covers his crotch with both hands, face burning.

The alpha, however, is not nearly as embarrassed. He shrugs at the tent in his blue shorts and looks at Mal, who is staring at them both with a single raised brow. “What are you two doing in here?” Jay asks again.

“Unintentionally cock blocking, apparently.”

“You have a problem with that?”

“Not at all.” Mal smiles and leans back in her chair.

“I-I don’t have a problem with it...either,” Evie says, quickly spinning on her heel. She doesn't return to her spot on Jay's bed, instead she opts for the empty, unused one.

“I was expecting it, honestly.” Mal kicks her feet up on the desk, smug and comfortable. “Save your fuck fest for later, we have an update on the wand.”

The wand, Mal explains, will be used at Ben’s coronation to bless him as king. It will be the only time the wand is brought out of the museum and in Fairy Godmother’s hands, in front of everyone who is invited, which includes every student at Auradon Prep, even the four of them.

“Ben’s girlfriend gets to sit up front, right by the wand.” Mal says, eyes glinting like they always do when she is up to something particularly wicked.

“Audrey won’t help us.”

“It’s a good thing Audrey isn’t about to be his girlfriend anymore.” Mal says to Jay, raising the spell book and revealing the page she has been studying so intently.

“You want to use a love spell on him?” Carlos asks as he steps closer, reading the instructions carefully.

The four settle down in the room. It is too early in the day, too many people about, to head to the kitchen and bake a treat with the spell inside. They must wait until the evening, with the cover of darkness.

Jay heads to the bathroom and changes back into his familiar leather, which looks ridiculously good on him. He grumbles and sits on his bed, pretending to flip through a magazine before tossing it aside and getting on the floor, working out.

It’s a stress reliever for the alpha, Carlos knows, and Jay is clearly stressed. Whether he’s tense about their new plan or tourney or because the two of them nearly had sex and Jay is also inwardly panicking or because he has a case of blue balls, Carlos can’t tell.

But he’s also not complaining. He’s happy to watch Jay do crunches and push ups and jumping jacks. More than happy, actually.

Mal continues to flip through the book, categorizing every ingredient they will need. She glances at Jay every once in a while, then at Carlos, then to Evie, keeping tabs on whatever they all do.

Evie is utterly silent on the bed. Her posture is perfect, more so than usual, and she sits completely still, hands folded in her lap. Several times, Carlos sees her composure break and she begins picking at her nail polish, but she always corrects herself quickly and forces herself to remain like a beautiful statue.

Carlos sits on Jay's bed in the room. As much as he appreciates Jay's bed (and the activities that nearly happened on it), he almost wishes he was on the spare bed, where Mal’s jeans and Evie’s pajamas and all of Jay’s dirty clothes lay. There is a tension in the room, probably from their plan and the reality of it all settling in, and Carlos wishes he could fiddle with the clothing of his pack as he sits.

He's also freaking the hell out on the inside because he’s an idiot and almost had sex.

Not that he doesn’t want to have sex, with Jay, but there are so many risks. They would be so close, his elevated heart rate and sweat could overpower his suppressants and give away his true scent. Jay would obviously be more dominant than usual, Carlos could lose himself in that and give into his submissive nature. Then there’s the emotional connection that supposedly comes from having sex with someone, the struggle of lying to Jay would only worsen.

It’s Auradon, he blames. The change in scenery and people and social norms, the stress of the wand, the independence he has being away from Cruella.

Clearly, Carlos has no idea what to do with his new-found freedom.

Fuck. He almost cost himself everything.

After far too long, Mal deems it safe enough to venture out for the kitchen. Most students are eating dinner right now and the sun is beginning to set, so they meet no one as they walk through the halls of the alpha boys’ dorm.

As it turns out, alpha boys don’t bake a whole lot. Their kitchen is nearly bare. Not as empty as any cupboard on the Isle, but enough that it’s impossible to bake anything here.

“We can go to the beta girls’ dorm,” Evie offers, three whole nails void of polish. She has been oddly silent the whole time. “We always have materials in there.” She shrugs and keeps staring at the ground. “We should go now though, before the halls fill up with people again.”

“Okay…” Mal agrees carefully, looking at the boys who are just as puzzled. “Good idea, E. That’s smart.”

The four of them start across campus and Carlos falls behind the two alphas. “Evie, what’s wrong?” He reaches for her shoulder, but she brushes him off and doesn’t answer.

When they enter the beta girls’ dorm, it is clear Evie is right – not that Carlos doubted her – about the kitchen inside having more ingredients. It is nice and tidy, but there are pots and pans and cupboards full of flour, sugar, yeast, baking powder and more. There are even a few ziploc bags with a beta girl's name written in pen, claiming the food as hers and just trusting the others not to take it.

“Pup, get the oven ready for 325 degrees. Jay, grab eggs and milk. E, find me some flour?”

In no time, the cookie batter is ready. They are only lacking one ingredient.

“Alright, it says that we still need one tear.” Mal cocks her hip and scowls at the bowl, as if it is to blame for their lack of necessities.

“Here,” Carlos offers from his spot, perched on a counter. “Cut up an onion.”

“No,” Mal narrows her eyes at him. “A tear of  _human sadness_. We can’t use anything else.”

Jay scoffs and waves his hand. “A tear is a tear. The onions are a good idea.” He bumps Carlos’ shoulder and Carlos flushes.

“That’s not true,” Evie hisses and her tone shocks all of them. She has spoken even less in the kitchen than she did in Jay’s dorm. “Tears will always have antibodies and enzymes, but an emotional tear has more protein based hormones than a reflex tear, which is what cutting an onion would cause.”

The three of them stare at her in silence, but Evie won’t meet their eyes. She is hidden behind her own hair, falling into her face and shielding her from the outside world.

“Whatever,” Evie sniffles as she reaches up to her face and swipes under her eye. “Here.” She holds her finger over the mixing bowl, and Carlos can barely see the small tear she gathered before it drops into the batter. “I’m going to go to bed.”

“No, you’re not.” Mal orders as the beta turns to leave. “E, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“ _Beta_.”

Evie stiffens at the warning tone, fingers curling into delicate fists. Her face crumples in a way Carlos has never seen because Evie is horrified of wrinkles, but she swallows and forces the tension to fade. “You and Jay…you have each other for your ruts. And Jay and Carlos…have each other now too.” Her voice breaks. “I don’t…I don’t have you guys or stupid Chad or…” She presses a hand to her face, hiding her tears and sorrow.

Carlos hops off the counter and rushes to her, Jay moving just as quickly. “Evie, what are you-?”

“You two are…you’re having sex.” She says bluntly. “Jay and Mal do the same for their ruts. And,” Evie wipes at her cheeks, her mascara running, “I guess it’s fair. You three have known each other for years and I only met you all 12 months ago, but…” Evie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I can't even get a prince here. I don't have anyone." Her shoulders tremble. "Evil, I thought I at least had Carlos. He was mine first.”

His heart sinks into his stomach and it’s like he can’t breathe. All he can hear is Evie’s rapid sniffling. “What? Evie…you have  _all_  of us, right?” Carlos looks at the alphas and they nod quickly.

“Of course. Eves, we’re here for you.” Jay wraps his arm around her, but she stiffens in his hold immediately. He swallows and pulls away. “Evie, Carlos and I, that whole thing just happened today. It took us both by surprise.”

“He’s telling the truth,” says Mal with a small smile. “The boys could never keep a secret like that for long.”

“And there are no secrets between us, right?” Jay brushes back blue hair. “We tell each other everything. You guys know about me and Mal during our ruts and we know about Cruella being a raving bitch.”

“The whole Isle knows that,” Carlos snickers, but he can’t force himself to smile. As far as he knows, he is the only one to be aware that Evie’s mother is an alpha. He is the only one to know about how often Jafar made Jay submit.

And well, he is the king of secrets.

“I don’t feel…like I belong in this group,” Evie trembles as she speaks and still refuses to look up. “You all have this intimacy with each other, even if it just started, and I…”

“Evie.” Carlos speaks and his voice sounds so far away. “Can I kiss you?”

That gets her attention. She raises her head instantly, brows furrowed. “What?”

“You’re right. You and I had each other before Jay and Mal came along.” His throat is so dry, his lips are quivering, his hands are unsteady. “Can I… Can I kiss you?”

Honestly, he does it for himself more than he does it for Evie because if his beta won’t stop crying, then he will begin to purr. He can’t stand watching her cry and fold in on herself as if she’s embarrassed, he can’t bear to witness Evie doubt herself and her place so terribly.

When she nods, Carlos moves on instinct, remembering his actions with Jay just hours earlier. Two kisses in one day, that’s more than he ever thought he would get, but so is his friends and their strange little pack.

Their mouths touch and Carlos really doesn’t know how to kiss and Evie doesn’t either, but that’s okay.

If kissing Jay is like kissing the sun, kissing Evie is like kissing a flower, or  _all_  of the flowers, every single one that he’s seen in Auradon. She is softer than petals, sweeter than nectar and Carlos can  _feel_  every color, from the blue of her hair to the red of her lipstick, from the lilac of her eyeshadow to the white of her sparkling teeth, and when she sighs into his mouth, it is like breathing in fresh air.

Their kiss isn’t as intense as the kiss with Jay, but it’s just as passionate. Their lips move slow and uncertain, but persistent and needy because he does need Evie, he needs Evie like he needs Jay and Mal, like he needs oxygen.

He doesn’t register that he’s whining until Evie’s hand on the back of his neck tightens.

Carlos gasps, stealing the air from Evie’s mouth, and pulls away.

Evie is gorgeous in every waking moment and probably even in sleep, but right now, with her cheeks pink and her lipstick smeared, Carlos has never felt so light headed looking at her.

“That was quite a show,” Mal murmurs, breaking the silence between them all. She commands attention easily, grabbing Evie’s wrist. “Evie, you are a part of this pack. You are mine and Jay’s and Carlos’, for now until the end of time, and any prince you meet is going to have to deal with that.” She moves forward, invading Evie’s space and forcing her against the counter. Mal places a hand on the beta’s face, thumb against her bottom lip. “And just in case you have any other doubts…”

The girls kiss, Mal dominating in the way her nature craves. She grips the beta’s face, devouring her mouth and swallowing her moans.

Carlos tries not to stare too intently, unlike Jay, who is watching way too closely.

He looks for a little bit though. Evie caves under Mal, clutching the countertop and easily giving into Mal’s assertive actions. Mal controls everything – the position of their faces, the movement of their lips, when they are allowed to part for air.

If he keeps watching, Carlos will end up in the same state as Jay, who has a growing tent in his pants.

When he hears the girls pull apart – because Carlos gazed down at the batter for several long seconds to control himself – he looks back up at them, studying Evie for her reaction to all of them.

“You’re a part of our group, beta. Forever and always,” Mal sighs against her lips, still holding Evie’s face. “Do you understand?”

Evie nods. Her cheeks are pink and her lips are swollen, but she is melting into Mal’s hold.

Mal turns to Jay with a raised brow, silently asking him what he plans on doing.

He nods subtly and steps forward, taking Evie from the other girl and pulling her close. “Hey Eves.”

“Jay.”

With one hand cupping her chin, Jay erases the distance between them, capturing Evie’s lips and kissing her deeply. It’s not as fiery as their kiss in the locker room, Carlos can tell, but just as demanding and helpless.

In his hold, Evie embraces his warmth, all that is Jay, and flourishes. Her posture is submissive, relaxed, but confident and certain. She follows Jay’s lead, the movements he makes, the noises he emits, and blossoms under his heat.

Carlos averts his eyes when the two of them moan, his whole face burning. It is not until a hand touches his shoulder that he looks up.

Mal is next to him, waiting in silence for him to fully acknowledge her. “Pup.”

“Yeah?”

“They’re a show, aren’t they?”

He follows her eyes to Jay and Evie, still embracing each other. Jay’s hold on her chin has moved to the back of her head, the other hand on her hip and rubbing the bare skin between her shirt and leggings. Evie is arching into him, her chest against his, both of her hands clutching his shirt and holding him near.

Carlos looks away again. “Y-yeah.”

“Let’s give our own show.” Mal pushes him easily because Carlos feels like a rag doll watching Jay and Evie kiss and he barely registers that he’s being moved until the counter is at his back and Mal has one hand in his hair and the other on his throat.

Jay is sunshine and Evie is flowers and Mal is ice, her presence all-encompassing, being felt down in his bones. Carlos has goosebumps all over, but his hands lay numb at his sides as he tries to kiss back. He opens his mouth on instinct when she bites his lower lip, shivering despite how warm her hand is on his throat. Mal has frozen him to this very spot, but he wouldn’t move even if he could.

She is confident (which makes sense because of all of her days with Jay), moving against him slowly, but knowingly, the hand in his hair moving down over his shoulder, onto his chest, where her nails sink into his skin. Mal snickers into the kiss before moving and Carlos groans when she pinches his nipple through his shirt.

Faintly, as if they are a thousand miles away, Carlos hears a low whistle. Mal pulls back and he lazily blinks his eyes open, catching Jay and Evie staring at him and Mal.

Three kisses. Three kisses in one day from three people he is so crazy for, it scares Carlos.

Kissing is different than scenting. Scenting is done as a public act, to give comfort and to claim someone, but kissing...is private. It's done for pleasure, not to showcase who belongs to whom. Scenting can be platonic - between family or friends - but kissing is romantic, it's sexual. It is not to claim for protection or for power, but for pleasure.

Despite the fact that this has been one of the most amazing nights of his life, Carlos is fucked. He is absolutely fucked.

“The four of us are always together. No matter what.” Mal insists with hard eyes, looking all of them, one at a time.

“Should we go consummate this?” Jay waggles his eyebrows and kisses Evie’s cheek.

Mal huffs and moves back to the bowl, now properly completed with Evie’s tear. “I can’t. If this thing with the king is to work, I can’t risk being seen doing anything with you three or anything that leaves a noticeable scent.”

“Oh.” Jay pulls away from Evie and looks at her, then Carlos, eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Then none of us,” Carlos says over the blood rushing in his ears, “should do anything with each other. We can’t risk people in Auradon finding out.”

“What, about us being a…pack?” Evie asks, hesitating over the word, but no one corrects her. They haven't officially used the word, but it's fitting for Evie to be the first to say it out loud. “Auradon is all about love and such, they go crazy for packs, even ones that are made young.”

“Carlos has a point,” Mal says as she stirs the bowl one final time. She instructs Evie to get a cookie sheet before continuing. “And I’m not saying that just because I don’t want the three of you to…fool around…without me. I don’t care if you do that,” she shoves the bowl away from her and snatches the tray from Evie’s hands.

The beta grabs her wrist. “We wouldn’t do anything without you, M.” Evie promises, tracing small circles on the palm of Mal’s hand. “The four of us are always together.”

Mal smiles at her own words being used against her. “Still. People shouldn’t be able to figure anything out between you three, it could look suspicious if I’m not a part of it. I can’t risk any more kissing or much more scenting, but you three can’t do anything that would cause some serious scent-carrying or marking.”

“Then we won’t do anything.” Carlos says and leans on the counter because his knees are still weak. “If Mal isn’t a part of this until after the love spell, none of us should do anything with each other. Not until…”

Not until they grab the wand and unleash evil on Auradon.

The others understand him though. Jay nods. “Yeah, okay. We’re a pack, but we can’t…fuck around, not until this whole thing is done with.” His shoulder slump with disappointment, but he accepts their situation for what it is.

“At least we got all of our kisses out of the way,” Evie bats her eyes at Mal.

“So now all I’m going to be thinking about is what I’m missing out on!” Jay groans as his head falls forward.

Evie laughs, sounding so sweet and musical, and swats his chest.

* * *

Ben proclaims his love to Mal at the end of a tourney game.

Carlos had not been thrilled at the idea of being chased again or kneeling before Jay in front of a dozen people again, so he had politely backed out of the sport by not showing up for any more practices and ignoring the other team members in the halls.

He stands with Evie and Mal in the bleachers, the three of them watching and cheering for Jay. When the king professes his love over the microphone, Carlos is giddy and furious at the same time. Next to him, he feels Evie clench her fists and he knows she is just as unhappy to have a foreign boy cling to Mal and offer himself to her in front of a hundred people.

Because it’s Ben claiming himself as  _Mal’s_ , not claiming Mal as his own. The king of Auradon is a beta, tripping over his feet to get to Mal and ask to be hers.

Of course, Mal agrees. She is gorgeous and confident, but Carlos can see the little twitch of her lips and the spasms in her fingers that show how nervous she is for everyone in the school to be staring at her.

His  _burning_  jealousy doesn’t kick in until Mal demands that they all meet in Jay’s room a week later.

“Ben’s an omega.”

Carlos feels his jaw drop, the same as Evie and Jay.

“There’s no fucking way.”

Mal turns to Jay, teeth clenched and hip cocked. “He is. He told me. He told me everything. His middle name, his childhood, his family history. He’s an omega.”

“I couldn’t smell that on him though.”

“You can’t smell it on anyone here!” Mal seethes. “Ben ever said almost all of the students are on suppressants. Not just the alphas but the omegas too. Apparently his family and close friends know, but a lot of the kingdom doesn’t.”

“Of course they don’t.” Evie paces the room, moving in circles, “you can’t have an omega king. Princesses are fine, even some princes. But queens and kings, especially kings, they can’t be omegas.” She shakes her head at the very idea.

There ought to be some part of Carlos that is offended and wants to correct her, but he agrees. The only omega he has met is himself and Carlos certainly isn’t fit to be king.

Still, her words echo in his head.

“So…what problem does this cause?” Carlos asks after he swallowed the sting of shame. “I mean, omegas...is that a problem?”

“I guess not,” Mal drops her head and rubs the bridge of her nose. “It doesn’t cause a problem  _per se_ , but…I just wasn’t expecting it.”

She sounds stressed, she sounds  _bothered_  and Carlos isn't sure if that makes him worried or relieved.

* * *

Carlos had been avoiding Ben like crazy until that point. Ben was a member of the tourney team and making a true effort to talk to Carlos about coming back, so he had been dodging the king left and right.

Now though, Carlos seeks him out and asks Ben for help with tourney, a sport he never intends to play again because sports just aren’t Carlos’ thing.

But Ben comes bounding over to him, smiley and dopey and nearly giggling to himself. “Hi Carlos!”

“Hello Ben.”

“I’m so excited to hang out with one of Mal’s friends.”

“Cool.” Carlos folds his arms and grits his teeth. “I’m excited to hang out with her  _boyfriend_.”

Ben is so starry-eyed that he doesn’t even notice Carlos’ short tone. He guides them over to the middle of the field, stop watch in his hand. Apparently, the king thinks Carlos sucks at tourney because he isn’t fast enough, not because getting chased by an alpha who scented him was too much to bare.

A little spiteful part of Carlos wants to inform Ben that he nearly outran Mal in her rut just a few weeks ago because she chased  _him_  to claim  _him_ and use  _him_ , not stupid, princely Ben with his clean hair and nice smelling clothes.

Instead, Carlos just glares at him when his back is turned.

“Alright, Carlos, are you read for some sprints?”

He nods and kneels in the grass, prepared to take off and show Ben just how fast he is and why he is chosen as Mal’s over some ridiculous boy pretending to be a king.

However, before Ben can blow the whistle, Carlos’ face drains of color and his body freezes.

An echo of a bark rings across the field.

There is a dog.

He bolts without even thinking about it, running past Ben and his ridiculous stopwatch. Carlos dashes past the canons, the stray people on the field, the bleachers. He moves faster than even when Mal was chasing him.

Mal would have bit him and forced him into submission. Maybe even fucked him.

But this thing, this  _beast_ , will tear Carlos’ throat out and eat him whole.

Over the pounding in his ears and his own horrified cries and the vicious barking behind him, Carlos can hear Ben shout for him and yell at him to stop.

This omega prince wants to kill him. He wants Carlos to stop and be ripped to shreds and murdered by the wild hound so that he can have Mal all to himself, why did Carlos ever offer to hang out with this psychopath?

Carlos launches himself into a tree, scrabbling up it and clinging to branches, ignoring the dull sting in both of his hands from the biting bark as he climbs frantically. He is perched on a limb, higher than what even Ben could reach from the ground, and trembles against the tree trunk.

The dog follows him to the tree, yapping at the roots. Carlos clamps his hands over his ears and hides his head in his knees. He’s wet with sweat and tears and his lungs can’t get enough air, no matter how many breaths he takes. It’s no time at all before the purr starts up, but Carlos is crying so heavily that he can’t hear it, he can’t focus on the soothing rumble. All he can hear is his own pitiful, horrified sobs and the monster howling below him, eager for Carlos to fall and become lunch.

He is choking on his own terror, coughing and shaking and purring, still with his hands clutching his ears in an attempt to block out the noise of the beast. But, as the minutes tick on and Carlos exhausts himself with his crying and the run, he hiccups and sniffles, trying to regain his breath.

“Carlos? Carlos? Should I go get Mal? Or Jay or Evie?”

From his perch, Carlos cracks his eye open to see Ben below him, cradling the dog in his arms.

“Let go of it!” He shrieks. “It’s going to attack you!”

“Carlos, breathe!”

He does so, surprisingly. Ben doesn’t sound like an omega when he gives orders and Carlos is so shaky that he could obey anything right now. He forces his mouth open and his lungs to work, heaving as he struggles to breathe.

“Are you okay?”

Carlos shakes his head. There is distance between him and the monster, several feet at least, but the creature is in Ben’s hold. The king doesn’t look like he’s about to throw the dog into the tree after Carlos at least, but he’s bouncing the animal and those razor sharp teeth are so close to Ben’s throat, his face, his neck.

His purr is growing and Carlos turns his head to the side to avoid looking at the beast and pinches his hand to gain control of himself.

Why is he so weak, why is he so scared, why is he so  _stupid_?

“Have you…ever met a dog before?”

Carlos shakes his head, counting the breaths in his head.

“Look, this is Dude.” Ben offers, his voice floating up. “Carlos,  _look_.”

He obeys with a jolt. Carlos doesn’t even think about it, but he never does, really. Someone commands him and he obeys and he’s not really sure if that’s because he was a punching bag on the Isle or because taking demands gives him this giddy, light-headed feeling, but Carlos just goes with it.

The dog in Ben’s arms is sniffing the king’s face, tail wagging. He is…small. Not just because Carlos is up in a tree, but the dog is just a small breed.

“Watch.” Ben rubs the dog’s head, then its back, then its mouth, even prying the beast’s mouth open and showing that the dog won’t bite. “He’s friendly. His name is Dude.”

Carlos looks down with interest. The dog hasn’t bit Ben at all. It just wags its tail and squirms.

“You’re one of Mal’s friends,” Ben says and the stars are back in his eyes. “I won’t let anything hurt you, Carlos.”

Right, like an  _omega_  could ever protect him.

Still, Carlos wipes at his face, his tears and sweat combining on his cheeks, before shimmying back down the tree and stepping onto the dirt.

“He…doesn’t look like a rabid pack animal.” Carlos admits. He’s not going to touch the thing, he’s not going to touch the thing, he’s not going to touch the thing.

Ben grabs his hand and puts it on the dog’s head. Carlos flinches, but…nothing happens. The fur is wiry and coarse under his fingers, a little knotted, but the dog doesn’t bite him. It just sniffs his hand. Its nose is wet and cold.

“Who told you dogs would attack you?”

“My mother.” Carlos says, but now he’s rethinking her words. The woman loved seeing him terrified and submissive and her horror stories of dogs always had that effect on him.

“You guys must have it pretty rough on the Isle.”

Carlos shrugs. Life on the Isle was life on the Isle. He survived, his pack survived, they just had to be smart about it.

“I have a question…” Ben shifts his weight as Carlos continues to let the dog sniff his hand. “What were omegas like on the Isle?”

He jumps again and whips his gaze to Ben’s face. Ben shouldn’t have been able to hear his purr, not when Carlos was so far above in a tree, there’s no way. “What?”

“Well, I don’t go out of my way to tell a lot of people, but I’m just so excited to be Mal’s,” Ben sighs and swings the dog around, “I’m an omega. I want to be hers for forever.”

Carlos huffs.  _He_  is Mal’s forever, he and Jay and Evie. “But people in Auradon don’t know that you’re an omega, right?”

“Not many. It’s not really a-. Here, hold him.” Ben unloads the dog into Carlos’ arms without much warning. He scratches the dog’s – err,  _Dude’s_  – ears and doesn’t notice Carlos’ panic. “It’s not a secret. I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of being an omega, but some of the older generation wouldn’t like an omega in charge.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, like the idea of having the kingdom potentially taken from him is as trivial as the weather.

“Well, uh,” Carlos is equally nervous about the dog in his arms and speaking to the king about omegas. He doesn’t know which he needs to distract himself from more. “Omegas don’t really exist on the Isle. There are only a couple of them.”

“So Mal has never met an omega?”

Carlos fiddles with the metal on Dude’s collar. “N-no. Uh, nope. She never has. None of us has.”

“I should spend my heat with her!”

What the  _fuck_  was in that love spell?

“No!” Carlos shouts just as Ben turns away, seemingly prepared to run to Mal this very moment and exclaim it to her. “You can’t!”

“You’re right!” Ben groans and throws his head back. “My suppressants won’t fade for like another week, even if I stop taking them right now.” He pouts like a child instead of a king and folds his arms.

Carlos sighs in relief, the instant panic ebbing away. “Listen, Ben, you can’t-.”

“Here!” He shouts and reaches into his pocket before he thrusts something into Carlos’ hand. It’s a plastic, orange cylinder that Carlos has seen pictures of in textbooks and pamphlets, the same thing Ben gave to Jay and Mal for their ruts. “Take my suppressants. That way I won’t be able to change my mind and go back on them.” Ben giggles hysterically. “Not that I  _would_  change my mind!”

Amazingly, Carlos’ first instinct is to shove them back in Ben’s hand and demand he keeps them forever and always until it dawns on him that what he holds in his hand is a bottle of suppressants. Real, actual, true suppressants.

For the past two years, his whole life has been about creating these, perfecting the formula to be exactly what he needs. Carlos has spent hours,  _days_ , slaving over the design, the ingredients, the proportions. He has worked his hands to blisters trying to salvage what he could from the dumps and steal what he needed from Dragon Hall’s laboratory. He’s been obsessed with suppressants since he first read about them, tucked away in the tightest corner of his room and reading by the early hours of sunrise.

He has them. In the palm of his hand, Carlos has suppressants.

While Ben takes Dude back and continues to yap, ecstatic to go into heat and spend it with Mal, Carlos shoves the bottle into his pocket and ignores the erratic beating of his heart.

* * *

Dude is acceptable. He hasn’t torn Carlos’ throat out or bit off any of his fingers. The dog likes to lick his hands and sniff him a lot, but Carlos isn’t too worried.

It’s true that dogs can smell better than humans. Even if Dude can smell that Carlos is an omega, it’s not like he can talk.

He sits in Carlos’ lap for Remedial Goodness 101, gnawing on a rubber bone. Carlos absentmindedly pets Dude’s head, zoning out with Fairy Godmother’s voice.

It’s been a few days since Ben shoved actual suppressants into Carlos’ hand like they were no big deal, eager to get rid of them and begin his heat for Mal.

And Carlos had taken them, back to his dorm room, jingling in his pocket, and shoved them into the little nightstand by his bed.

When he first took them back out, after Doug went to shower, Carlos had pondered why Ben carried them with him at all, rather than having them in his room. But, Carlos takes care to hide the pills, concealing them in an unmarked bottle that rests at the bottom of his book bag. He can’t risk leaving them in his room, where Doug could find them, or in his school locker where a teacher could open.

No, he had to keep the suppressants with him at all times, just like the ingredients for his homemade suppressants or  _The Importance of Omegas_ , which Carlos returned to the library after he had gone two days without opening it again.

The suppressants are guarded and safe from anyone who wanted to rifle through his belongings. Ben must have felt the same way.

And now that he’s been on the pills for days…Carlos feels weird. He feels muted. He feels…not much. He doesn’t want to sit as close to Jay and Evie and Mal, doesn’t crave their touch randomly. He’s okay to go without physical affection and he doesn’t even have to pretend like he’s fine now.

That’s probably why he became so indifferent to Dude so quickly. Yeah, Carlos realizes that Cruella lied, but it’s hard to get the idea out of his head that every dog won’t attack him after hearing it for years.

But he looks at Dude in his lap and thinks…whatever. Dude might hurt him, Dude might not.

He’s not so afraid on suppressants. He doesn’t get as excited to see his pack or as worried about the plan. He doesn’t even feel guilty about taking Ben’s suppressants (even if they were technically given) or jealous about Ben spending his heat with Mal. Well, Carlos is a little jealous still, but he’s at peace with it.

His emotions aren’t entirely gone but they’re…less. Like he can only feel things halfway now.

And that’s good. Really. He’s less distracted by emotions, he doesn’t long to submit or kneel, he’s more in control of himself.

That’s good. It’s all good.

A sharp nudge in his side takes him away from Dude’s soft head.

“C, she’s talking to you,” Jay hisses.

Carlos blinks and looks up to see Fairy Godmother watching him expectantly. “Yeah?”

“Do you know the answer, dear?”

“No.”

Fairy Godmother falters. “I’ll ask the question again. Ahem. What’s the proper way for betas to interact with omegas? A, to demand submission; B, with respect and sitting proper distance apart; C, to ask intruding questions about heats; or D, to invite the omega to come to their dorm after curfew.”

Even acting as a beta, most of Carlos’ interactions with others were closest to A or D. Villains wanted submission, alphas made crude gestures, Cruella talked about renting his body to adults. Jasper and Horace had even asked if he ever  _got wet_  for men.

Really, the only option that seems unfamiliar is…

“B,” Carlos says, “respectful and sitting far apart.”

Fairy Godmother gushes and claps her hands. “Well done!”

“How are omegas treated here?” Mal asks suddenly, her voice cutting off their teacher. “Just curious.”

Carlos figures she’s trying to figure out how many people know Ben is an omega. He’s glad Mal asked the question because he’s been curious to find out too.

Fairy Godmother looks at Mal for a long moment, as if she’s perfectly aware that Ben is an omega and she’s realizing that Mal knows too and she’s trying to decide how much of a shit show this is.

“Omegas are treated with respect, or course. Just like any other role.”

“So there’s no difference?” Mal tilts her head with faux innocence. “Why are we separated by roles then?”

Fairy Godmother’s eyebrows shoot up. “Well, we don’t want scents to influence anyone or the natural dynamics that take place to be a distraction.”

Mal nods, but keeps speaking. “So what kind of influence do omegas have on alphas?” She pauses and then smiles again, looking fully worthy to be dating the king of Auradon. “Just curious.”

A look of shock passes on Fairy Godmother’s face. She realizes that Mal is aware of Ben being an omega. “Well, most students are on suppressants, so there really shouldn’t be any influence here. But everyone is kept separate because omegas bring out dominance in alphas, sometimes in betas.”

“Mmm,” Mal hums. “That’s it?”

Fairy Godmother wearily keeps eye contact. “Also, with, ahem,  _roles_ , even on suppressants, omegas can affect those around them, or their little subconscious actions can affect alphas, betas or other omegas, but other omegas are more understanding of them, but that’s a topic for another class.”

“Subconscious actions?”

Carlos’ question makes him the center of attention in the room.

“Well, it’s different for everyone, but I’ve noticed with Jane – you all remember my daughter, right?”

Yeah, the mousy girl that was eating out of Mal’s hand due to her own lack of confidence. Jane was their first plot to get to the wand, but it fell through. She practically melted under Mal’s attention on her and half-hearted praises, Carlos had been annoyed to see someone so infatuated with Mal.

And now, hearing that Jane is likely an  _omega_  who hung all over Mal…

Carlos supposes he’s upset. Kind of. He probably should be more indignant, but it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling on suppressants.

“Jane likes to play with her hair when she’s nervous or upset. Omegas often provide sensory comfort for themselves when they’re stressed, even on suppressants.” Fairy Godmother explains, waving her hand. “Or when they’re depressed, they purr and when they’re happy, omegas can chirp. Things like that can affect others who notice them. They have a tendency to…affect the emotions of others. Especially with those they have created some sort of bond – platonic or otherwise – with.”

Mal nods and briefly, Carlos wonders if Ben has done any of that around her, but he’s really more concerned with whether  _he_  has done any of that.

His limited reading has never mentioned those things, though he hadn't picked up anything else after returning the unfinished  _The Importance of Omegas_. Carlos has never heard of sensory stimulation or chirping. Surely, Fairy Godmother doesn’t mean like what  _birds_  do?

Of course, he’s caught himself purring in distress, but he’s never done either of those. He doesn’t  _provide sensory comfort_  for himself, touch on the Isle was bad,  _always_. Carlos didn’t play with hair or mimic physical affection, he doesn’t want things like that.

And chirping, whatever that is, Carlos has definitely never done that. He would have noticed it like the purr.

He won’t ever chirp, suppressants or not. He doesn’t get to be  _happy_ , despite the pleasure and comfort he takes in his pack.  _Happy_  isn’t for villains. Or liars. Happiness isn’t for people like Carlos.

* * *

Carlos feels most comfortable in the rooms of his alphas. He likes living with Doug just fine and Lonnie is friendlier than anyone else on campus, but Carlos enjoys laying on Jay’s bed or sitting in Mal’s chair and breathing in their scents.

Tonight is different though.

They are finalizing their plan to steal the wand.

Each of them has a role. Mal will grab the wand, Evie will knock out the guards and anyone in their way and Jay will muscle them through the crowd. Carlos is to find their limo, the one with the button for the barrier, and get them all back to the Isle.

He had made some embarrassing, pleased noise when Mal told him of his job. Carlos was so flushed at being given such a heavy responsibility, so flustered to realize Mal’s confidence and trust in him. He will not let her down.

Coronation is not until next week, but Mal says it is too risky to meet up and plan anything right before their big moment. It is safest to meet now, ensure everyone is aware of their roles and set it all into stone.

Carlos has been on Ben's suppressants for a full week now. Their odd effect on him has lessened, but he still feels off. It's like the stomach aches he got when first using his homemade suppressants. Eventually he got used to them being in his system and stopped reacting poorly.

These suppressants are a little different though. They're proper suppressants, of course, so they don't cause pain. They just make Carlos feel...off.

Jay falls back rather quickly onto his own bed. They thought about meeting in Mal’s room, but Mal said it would look bad on her if she had three of them leaving her room at night. She was much more likely to sneak out of the alpha boys’ dorm undetected rather than have three guests leave her room unnoticed past curfew.

Carlos likes Jay’s room. It is bare and simple, Jay’s stolen treasures line the shelves on one side, though his collection has slowed down considerably. The first week, Jay had filled his room so much that he threw out most of what he had stolen, but lately…he hasn’t been thieving. He's changed since joining the tourney team, he seems lighter, more carefree.

That's gone tonight.

“Come here, pup,” Jay calls. He lays on top of his comforter, on his side, watching Carlos sit on the other empty bed.

The girls are still talking, muttering over the plans and spells, so Carlos is quiet as he moves across the carpet and sits on Jay’s mattress. He is pulled down immediately, the alpha maneuvering him so they lay facing each other.

It’s the most intimate thing they’ve done since the kiss all those weeks ago. They haven’t risked any big displays of affection, too worried about lingering scents stirring suspicion in the people here.

But Jay reaches down for Carlos’ hand and locks their fingers together. He slowly bring Carlos’ hand to his mouth and kisses each knuckles. Jay closes his eyes and moves his mouth over Carlos’ fingers, content to share this gentle action in the dark.

This is different from their kiss in the locker room. That had been amazing, but it had been rushed and messy and desperate, all about dominance and submission and need.

Right now, laying together, Jay kissing his knuckles, this is about…

Well, Carlos isn’t sure he has the words for it.

“You want to break Ben’s love spell?”

Both boys jolt up in the bed, their peaceful moment broken by Evie’s shock. Their quick movement and rustling of blankets catches the attention of Mal and Evie, who look back at them.

“Yeah,” Mal swallows, looking entirely uncertain of herself. “You know…for after.”

“Why?” Carlos asks, fingers curled in Jay’s blanket. “He’s an… I thought you wanted that.”

“An omega.” Mal says to herself more than any of them. “He is. But…you know. Ben offering himself to me, saying he wanted to…” She trails off. Carlos isn’t sure if she’s talking about Ben wanting to go into heat for her because Mal hasn’t mentioned that to their group. Either Ben hasn’t told her his  _brilliant_  plan or Mal is keeping it a secret. “After the villains come and hurt everyone and destroy everything, Ben still wanting to be my omega just seems a little extra…cruel.”

Carlos gulps and pulls his knees up to his chest. “But when our parents come and take over everything…you won’t get another omega. We don’t have any on the Isle and the ones here will…”

“C?” Evie calls for him, but she sounds so far. “Carlos, what’s wrong?”

Jay shakes his shoulder when he doesn’t respond. “Pup? Dude? Can you breathe?”

Carlos thinks that if he hadn’t been taking Ben’s suppressants, he wouldn’t have the strength to not purr right now. He feels like he's about to vomit, but he forces out his words. “What will happen? To the…the omegas here?”

Mal blinks, eyebrows raised at his question. “I…don’t know.” She looks at Jay, who stares back at her. “I haven’t thought about it.”

“Most of the people the villains hurt were omegas.” Evie says softly. “Jasmine was an omega,” she looks at Jay, who nods. “So is Queen Belle. And Snow White. Villains prey upon omegas more than any other role.”

“And they’re treated like shit on the Isle!” Carlos hops off of Jay’s bed. His fear has become panic and panic manifests itself into mindless pacing. “I mean, Gaston rents LeFou out and-and Anastasia is treated like property. Jafar always talked about whipping Jasmine and Horace and Jasper think omegas are fuck toys and I…” He clenches his eyes shut and folds his arms, curling in on himself. “Cruella always said that if I…I presented as an omega…”

“What did she say?” Mal asks him, looking over his trembling form. “Carlos, what did Cruella always say?”

He can’t breathe, there’s no air. His chest hurts and his whole body is shaking. The room spins and his throat is so tight that oxygen can’t pass through no matter how badly his lungs burn.

“Carlos, breathe!”

It’s not until his face is buried in Evie’s shoulder that Carlos realizes he sank to the floor in his panic. The beta holds him tightly, shushing him, rubbing his back and kissing his hair.

He chokes on air, coughing and wheezing until he regains his senses and collapses in Evie’s arms.

“What the hell, Carlos?” Mal kneels next to him, hand on his shoulder. “We always knew what was coming, we knew the plan.”

“The alphas on the Isle won’t be as nice as you, Mal,” he tells her sincerely, looking up at her befuddled face. “They won’t care about drugging omegas or using magic or just using force.” Carlos pulls away from Evie and narrows his eyes at Mal. “If we do this, this is a death sentence for them.”

Even on the Isle, the most ruthless villains were still  _bound_  by the barrier. They didn’t have magic, their own bodies were withering and weakened by the absence of food, they lacked moronic followers. They could be as big and bad and strong as the Isle allowed and they ran the place, reminiscing of omegas to bend over and claim.

And now, without that barrier, they will be  _limitless_.

None of that seems to register with Mal, who grits her teeth and says, “I’m not nice.”

Carlos nearly rolls his eyes at her. “You have an omega who is head over heels for you and instead of taking that-.”

“We’re evil!” Mal barks at him and Carlos recoils further into Evie. “We are evil and wicked and ruthless. Okay? The only people we give a shit about are ourselves. The four of us.” Mal gestures to their pack. “That’s it.”

“What about everybody els-?”

“Carlos,” Mal hisses, lips curling back. “We are rotten. We are villains. We are unleashing evil.”

They are condemning omegas everywhere. They are allowing omegas to be victimized and used and forced into submission.

“It doesn’t even matter, man. You’re not an omega.” Jay crouches down and grips Carlos’ shoulder. “We got each other’s backs, no matter what happens.”

That's right, they only have each other. Mal even swore that Cruella would never be able to touch him again, but that she wouldn't kill her, so that means his mother will end up locked away or injured or disabled. Mal was willing to take down one of the most infamous villains, which is pretty damn evil, sure, but she would do it for  _him_ , to keep Carlos safe from harm.

“We’ll protect each other.” Mal nods and sits on the empty bed. “We’ll look out for each other and keep each other safe.”

Carlos was never very good at being a villain and he still must not be, because that doesn’t sound very evil to him at all.

* * *

Family Day sounds like a fairy tale bunch of crap, but so does most of Auradon, so Carlos doesn’t fight it.

Honestly, it’s not that bad. There is food everywhere and an open area for him to run around with Dude.

They are to fit in and play nice and not cause a scene. This is their big moment, their final chance, to really blend in with Auradon and become perfect, invisible background characters that no one takes a second look at.

Evie scolds him and Jay for going overboard with a chocolate fountain, but a small smile hides under her faux annoyance. She looks around casually before swiping a drop of chocolate off Jay’s lip with a smile and licking it off her finger.

Carlos chases Dude in the grass, avoiding people like the plague. He finds his own behavior odd. Before he had proper suppressants and could only use his home-made ones, Carlos fretted about getting too near to anyone, in case they caught his scent. Now that he has real suppressants, his self-induced seclusion hasn’t stopped.

He keeps an eye on everyone from the back of the party, Dude yapping at his feet. Evie and Jay are playing a game of…croquet? Cricket? They are playing a game of  _something_  with Ben and Carlos brushes off the faded jealousy that comes with the sight.

Ben's pills are still altering his emotions. Carlos feels, but it’s all diluted with suppressants. He can be sad, but not depressed. He can worry, but he isn’t anxious. He is jealous, but not possessive.

Well, not as possessive as he once was over his pack.

Jay high fives Ben and Evie giggles, twirling her hair. As far as Carlos knows, Ben doesn’t know that Jay and Evie know that he is an omega. Though, if the king had been so affected by the love spell to tell Carlos, maybe he told Jay and Evie as well.

Mal has said little about Ben being an omega. She’s still set on reversing the love spell and refuses to talk more about it, despite Carlos asking how can it seem “ _a little extra cruel_ ” when she’s so wicked and evil.

She always glares at him when he asks that.

Carlos still remembers that day in Jafar’s shop, having dropped to his knees before Jay and feeling the giddy, light-headed feeling of kneeling and submitting. He remembers Jay’s words, his desire for an omega to be a part of his future pack, one to be “ _fucked and used_ ”.

He daydreamt about it a couple of times, in the shower where the soap and shampoo were fragranced enough to hide his growing scent from Doug. Carlos leant against the shower wall and entertained the idea of being fucked and used by his pack – kneeling before Jay again, Mal’s fingers in his hair, Evie praising him with her words and gentle kisses.

Eventually, the day dreaming had its effects and Carlos had to shut the thoughts down. The musky soap would only cover so much, if he got too excited, his scent could give him away. He had bit his tongue and turned the water cold until his body relaxed.

But those desires have been fading since he began taking real suppressants. His omega urges are being squished and it is like being able to breathe for the first time in nearly a year and a half. He is meek and submissive still, because, well, it’s all Carlos has ever been, but he doesn't  _desire_  to be submissive anymore.

He feels like a beta. And that’s more than Carlos ever really hoped for.

So why the hell is he so irritated at the way Jay slings an arm over Ben’s shoulders and how Evie watches with a grin?

They both know that they’re not keeping Ben and that Mal has no interest in him. From what Carlos can tell, though his olfaction has dimmed even more with proper suppressants, Ben’s natural omega scent has not yet overridden the suppressants still in his system. He isn't acting more submissive, he's still just a normal king, so why are Jay and Evie all over him?

Carlos sighs and relaxes his posture before scooping Dude up. Anger never got him anywhere. Neither did self-pity.

He moves back over to the food, slinking around the edge of the party as to avoid the other guests. Carlos firmly keeps his back turned to Jay and Evie, still fawning over Ben and showing way more physical affection than the stupid king ought to have.

Ben’s not even stupid, not really, Carlos knows. In fact, he is quite kind, to a fault nearly. Ben brought them from the Isle, regardless of the opposition he faced, and still asks more questions about the kids there and the life they all had. He took time out of his schedule to help Carlos with tourney – though it never progressed into anything more – and introduced him to Dude. Ben gives Mal flowers and candy and praise for all of her art projects, even when it’s considered vandalism.

Carlos doesn’t hate Ben. Or think he’s stupid.

He just really has a problem with one of his alphas and his beta being so friendly to Ben.

Mal keeps her distance, idly watching Jay and Evie hoover over Ben. She stands alone, quiet and small, so unlike the presence she was on the Isle. It is part of going unnoticed, an attempt to be invisible, but Carlos can’t imagine not ever being drawn to Mal.

“Enjoying the party?” She asks without looking at him, just sensing his presence by her side.

“I guess. When does it end?”

“The sooner, the better.”

The two stand in silence, Carlos bouncing Dude on his hip. A moment passes before an elderly, dark woman smiles brightly at them. “Hello there.”

“Hi,” Mal sings, sounding as sweet as bird. It’s a tone Carlos has only ever heard in Auradon and he secretly kind of likes it.

The woman looks at Mal, studies her curiously up and down with a bewildered face. “Have we met?”

She’s talking directly to Mal, so Carlos stays quiet and out of the way. He takes a small step back to further isolate himself and listen behind his alpha.

“No, I don’t believe so. We’re new,” Mal looks back at Carlos, as if to make sure he hasn’t left her. “We’re like transfer students.”

A sharp nudge has Carlos stumbling with Dude in his arms. He looks up to see Audrey walking importantly past him, acting completely unaware of her obvious push to Carlos’ back. Dude whines at being jostled and Carlos glares at the showy princess.

Audrey might be an alpha. Her scent is so muted that she smells like a beta, but Carlos thinks she’s more assertive and egotistical than the normal Auradon citizen.

“Hi, Grammy,” Audrey coos, handing the older woman a drink and kissing her briefly on the lips. When she pulls back and looks and  _recognizes_ Carlos and Mal, her eyes widen, as if Audrey had not realized they were there.

That’s different, Carlos knows as he snuggles tighter to Dude. There is a difference between Audrey intentionally ignoring him and her genuinely not seeing him. His chest tightens and he hides his face.

“Grammy?” Mal asks and takes a step away.

Carlos looks between the three, quickly realizing that Audrey’s grandmother is-.

“Yes, as in Sleeping Beauty’s mother.” Audrey narrows her eyes, lips curled in disgust. “Grammy I don’t think you want to be talking to this girl,” she sneers at Mal, entirely ignoring Carlos. Even though that is what he wanted, invisibility, it stings to see Mal be targeted. “Not unless you feel like taking another hundred year nap.”

Mal purses her lips and steps closer, hearing the challenge and refusing to shy away.

Audrey does the same – she must be an alpha, even one on suppressants, she  _must_  be – moving in front of her grandmother, as if to shield her from Mal.

It would be sweet if Carlos couldn’t stand Audrey so much.

“What are you talking about, dearest?” Asks the woman, who Carlos now knows to be Queen Leah.

Mal exhales through her nose, jaw moving in the little way that says she’s grinding her teeth. She is not ashamed of her lineage, not willing to hide it from strangers, but she also does not want to draw attention to herself.

“This is Maleficent’s daughter, Grammy.” Audrey says coldly, nose up in the air so she can properly look down on Mal.

Carlos holds Dude with one arm and runs his free hand through his hair. This could get ugly, Leah could cause a scene or Audrey or even  _Mal_  with that defiant look in her eyes. Carlos is prepared to drag his alpha away as soon as a fight starts, one single shout and they’re gone.

“What are you talking about, Audrey?" Queen Leah shakes her head. "This isn’t Maleficent’s child. How could you say such a thing?”

Mal blinks and Audrey blinks and Carlos blinks.

Leah gently moves her granddaughter aside and leans closer to Mal and…sniffs. Casually, subtly, staying far enough back that she respects Mal’s personal space. “No, don’t be ridiculous, Audrey.”

“Grammy, what are you talking about?” Audrey seethes and clutches her grandmother’s hand. “This is Maleficent’s daughter!”

“No,” Leah says softly, shaking her head and pulling away. “I know Maleficent’s scent.” She looks at Mal with a curious head tilt. “You don’t smell anything like her.”

Carlos feels his mouth snap shut and he immediately looks away from the queen and princess to Mal.

Her eyebrows are practically in her hairline and her lips have formed a little  _O_  of surprise. The faded pink blush Evie applied to Mal's face earlier becomes a striking red of shame as she clenches her hands into tight fists.

Audrey is baffled, not at their reactions, but at her grandmother’s words. “What? How is that…?”

“I will never forget the smell of the woman who took your mother from me,” Leah says and holds a hand over her chest. “I will never forget her face or her voice or anything about her.” She shudders, eyes closed in a memory that haunts her face. “Maybe my sense of smell has faded over the years, but this girl doesn’t smell anything like her. Audrey, you owe her an apology.”

“But…I…” Audrey’s mouth opens and shuts without thought, her brows knitted together in confusion. “Mal!” Audrey glares and purses her lips, waiting for an explanation. “You’re hiding something!”

Mal’s face is red all over, a sharp contrast to how pale she normally is. She looks to the ground, unable to meet the eyes of anyone around her, even a member of her pack. “My mother," she quickly exhales, "never scented me.”

Carlos lowers his head and steps closer to his alpha, offering a silent show of comfort. It’s not a big deal - it’s  _not_  - but Auradon makes everything into a big deal and he can hear the gasps of Audrey and Leah.

“That’s not true.” Audrey says after a moment of silence. “You’re lying.”

“What do you mean your mother never scented you?” Leah murmurs. “Parents always scent their children. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Carlos knows it’s hurtful to acknowledge. For the people of Auradon, of course. Not him. His mother never scented him, not once in his childhood. She never provided comfort and held him. Maleficent never did that with Mal, Jafar never did that with Jay, the Evil Queen never did that with Evie. It was part of growing up on the Isle, living with parents who didn’t love them – maybe because their parents didn’t know  _how_  to love them – but it’s not a big deal, it’s not, it’s not, it’s not.

He’s never been hurt about it before. Some story books talk about scenting between parents and children as a way to bond, but it just didn’t happen on the Isle. Carlos didn’t care. He can’t miss something he never had.

But looking at Audrey and her wounded eyes – her expression is so contrite, it’s as if it had been herself to never bond with a parent – take a step back into her grandmother, reaching for her hand and curling close for comfort…

Carlos thinks – just maybe – he wishes he had that with Cruella.

Leah reaches for Audrey and grabs her hand, rubbing circles onto her wrist. A subtle, socially acceptable way in Auradon to provide comfort, but a gesture that would never be acceptable on the Isle. Carlos feels nauseous watching the quiet affection even though he’s seen similar actions a hundred times since they arrived here.

“You're telling the truth,” Audrey chokes out, sounding not very alpha at all. “I didn’t know…” She looks away and takes a step back, clearly uncomfortable with the new information and unsure of how to behave now.

Fury radiates off Mal instantly and Carlos nearly cowers away. He doesn’t do self-pity, but Mal doesn’t do pity at all and the soft looks from her mother’s sworn enemy and granddaughter are enough for eyes to glow.

Thankfully, Leah and Audrey are so caught up in each other, their own shock and disbelief, that Carlos sees the emerald first. He snatches Mal’s hand and forces her to look at him, dragging her away.

“Not here!” He seethes and continues to tug, even though Mal is hissing at him and that makes him want to run and hide, omega or not. “We can’t cause a scene!”

Mal snatches her hand away and whips back around. She freezes.

Carlos follows her line of sight. Several feet away, still standing where they were, Leah and Audrey are hugging, Audrey’s face buried in the neck of her grandmother as Leah rubs her shoulders.

There’s a noise to his left and Carlos glances at Mal, face screwed up and eyes back to their normal green.

* * *

“I think I hate my mother.” Mal says that night. The four of them are huddled in her room, the girls sitting on Mal’s bed. “I always knew I didn’t love her, but now…” She trails off and sighs heavily.

“Are you sure?” Evie mumbles into her shoulder. “That you never loved her?”

Mal looks at her with a bewildered expression, Jay and Carlos watching from the spare bed in her room.

“Because maybe you loved her or you still love her and you’re hurt…that she doesn’t love you back.”

Carlos winces at the words. Those won’t go over well with Mal, the implication of weakness and the direct assessment of Maleficent’s lack of care, but Evie keeps speaking.

“That’s how it is with my mother. I love her, I know that I do, and I know she doesn’t love me back.” Evie moves as if she wants to pull Mal closer, erase the distance between them, but sitting as close as they are right now is already risky. They're arms are already touching, any nearer and their scents will definitely rub off on each other. Evie rethinks her movement and pulls back

Mal sighs, but doesn’t correct her. “I guess it doesn’t really matter.”

“I hate Jafar,” Jay says from his seat next to Carlos. “I don’t think I ever loved him.”

Carlos knows it’s his turn to speak. It’s his turn to talk about Cruella and how she never loved him and how he used to love her and maybe he still does and his turn to confront all of those ugly, confusing emotions after seeing Leah comfort Audrey.

He doesn’t have the energy for all of that.

“What does this mean for us?” Carlos asks softly, pinkie sliding over Jay’s because they can risk an action that small.

“Why would we go so out of our way for people who don’t give a shit about us?” Mal seethes, hands bunching up the bedding and shoulders curling forward. “Why do we go so far for them?”

That’s what it’s always been about. It wasn’t about being villains. It was always about their parents, the withheld affection and bonding that drove them all desperate.

He knew Mal wasn't evil.

She just wanted Maleficent to notice her.

“Because we thought we could earn their love,” Evie offers, looking out the window with a weary expression.

“Because we had to,” Carlos gulps. “On the Isle. We couldn’t say no to them in that room when your mom gave us the plan. Disobeying our parents doesn’t work out for us.”

There is a heavy silence in the room that lasts for too long. When Carlos looks up from the ground to his friends, his pack, they are all watching him.

Carlos freezes and scowls at his subconscious movements. He had brought his hand up to rest against the burn of Cruella’s signature, feeling the raised skin beneath his shirt and lost in the memory of the pain. 

Cruella hadn’t even laughed when she held the metal stamper to Carlos’ skin. She usually found humor in his torment, but not that time. Cruella had been so set on scarring him, on teaching him a lesson, that she hadn’t even thought to find it all funny. "You don't belong to that alpha child," Cruella had mocked as Carlos wailed, "you belong to  _me_ , boy."

“Because we wanted to be evil,” Jay says into the dark, “because we thought we had to be them.”

“I don’t want to be Maleficent. I  _know_  that I’m not her.” Mal draws her knees up to her chest, bootless feet resting on her comforter. “A couple of weeks ago…Ben asked me…if I loved him,” she admits and looks at the door, pointedly avoiding all of their eyes. “I thought for a while that I might because I was so…attached to him. But it was just me being invested in an omega, that was all.” Mal huffs and nuzzles her knee. “I knew that I didn’t love him though because…I already know what it’s like to love someone. To love more than one person.”

It clicks for Carlos at the same moment it clicks for Jay and for Evie. His chest aches, but not with the burn of Cruella. It’s as if his heart is beating too fast and his head is floating away.

Even though he can’t breathe and all he can hear is the rushing blood in his ears and he thinks he might pass out, Carlos has never felt so special in his life. Not on the day that Evie first sat down with him in Dragon Hall or the day she gave him his first ever blanket. Not on the day that Jay and Mal demanded his help for Maleficent’s scepter, not when the two first invited he and Evie to hang out with them. Not on the day he was called to Auradon, not when Jay and Evie and Mal took their time to scent Carlos as mark him as theirs.

Mal loves them. She loves them all. And she  _said_  it.

“Oh, M,” Evie breathes and she breaks their rule of no contact, no risk of scent contamination. She throws her arms around Mal and kisses her cheek. “M, we love you too.”

“Even though I’m not a prince?”

Evie bites her lip and hesitates, but her voice is stern when she speaks. “If you can admit you’re not your mother, so can I. What she wants for me isn’t what I want. Chad wasn't anything compared to you three.”

“So you’re fine with disappointing your mother?” Mal scoffs, but leans into Evie anyway. “You’re okay with her never being proud of you?”

“I think even if I did marry a prince…” Evie rests her head on Mal’s shoulder, “she would still be disappointed in me. She would still find something to complain about. The castle wouldn’t be big enough, she’d want me with a king instead of a prince, just  _anything_  to say I needed to do better. But, that doesn’t matter.” Evie swallows and looks at the boys, still sitting on the bed side by side. “Because, I mean…”

“We don’t ever  _have_  to see them again,” Carlos says. “We’re here and they’re on the Isle. We can keep it that way for the rest of our lives.” He grips Jay’s hand tightly, fearing the words in his throat even though it’s what all four of them are thinking. “We live in Auradon and…stay here. Be a part of this world.” Where people smile and food smells nice and air is warm and they can say  _love_.

Evie looks at him, still resting on Mal’s shoulder. “We’d have to be good.”

“Or, at least, not evil,” Jay suggests with a shrug. “And it’s not like any of us are actually evil if we…uh… _love_. Because I…” He rubs the back of his neck and Carlos looks at him with an amused grin. “You know, Mal. Same.”

The girls laugh and Carlos nudges his side, but the tension is broken. The four of them can breathe.

“So we’re all on the same page.” Mal takes a deep breath and looks at them all. “We stay, here, in Auradon. No more plan to steal the wand.”

“We can be ourselves,” Evie says and kisses Mal’s cheek. “We can be us.”

Hours after they leave Mal’s room, those words ring in Carlos’ head.

* * *

Things with Ben go surprisingly well, according to Mal.

He had known for a while that he was under a love spell - something about an enchanted lake? - but he was unwilling to cause a fight right before his coronation. Even in his hurt and anger, he was worried about the reputation of the VKs and hurting the chances of future Isle kids to be brought over if he made a fuss. Ben had been hurt and upset and even mad, but unwilling to put the future of other VKs at risk. He had been very grateful that Mal had come forward and confessed on her own.

As far as Carlos knows, Ben has no idea they wanted to steal the wand. Carlos doesn’t see why Mal would tell him. Ben chalked her behavior up to a mistake made after being so overwhelmed in Auradon, but he was more than impressed by how she controlled herself after learning about his hidden role and how she never took advantage of it.

He’s inherently good at heart, so good that it’s impossible. Ben baffles Carlos in a dozen ways. His kindness, his strength, his desire to see the best in everyone.

So Carlos doesn’t have much of a choice when Ben asks to see him.

They meet in his office a week before coronation, Ben standing tall in his blue suit as he shuts the door. It’s baffling to Carlos, still after all these weeks, too see an omega have an office and a suit and a secretary and an entire kingdom in his hand.

And Carlos is an omega, he knows the unfair stereotypes of the Isle, but it still feels…wrong. Like there is a mistake in Ben being king. On the Isle, Carlos could never embrace his role and it seems…as if Ben does the same. He doesn’t stand like an omega, he is tall and proud and his head is high. He is not submissive or quiet or small, but today, Ben looks off. Different.

If the love spell hadn’t been washed away already, Carlos would have chalked up his disheveled appearance to breaking out of his obsession with Mal.

“Please, sit,” Ben gestures to the chair across from the desk and smiles when Carlos takes a seat. “So, Carlos, I have something to ask of you.”

He gulps, clutching the cushion of the chair. “Okay.”

“Do you remember that day we practiced drills on the tourney field? They day you met Dude?”

The little dog is with Evie right now, sitting handsomely for his fitting. Evie had been inspired by Jay’s tourney uniform to create a matching one for Dude and insisted on making it soon as possible.

Carlos nods.

“Well,” Ben takes a deep breath and clearly forces a smile. “I also gave you my bottle of suppressants that day. I wasn’t thinking clearly and I…I need those back.” He clasps his hands together. “What did you do with them?”

“How have you not gone into heat yet?” Carlos blurts out. He’s certainly not about to answer the question honestly. “Because that…that was like three weeks ago. You should…”

He had panicked every time Mal was late to a meeting or had gone without being seen for a few hours. Carlos was convinced that any time she was missing was because Ben had finally gone into heat and Mal had dragged him off, intent on holding him down and biting his throat and using Ben however she pleased.

The king clears his throat awkwardly. “Well, suppressants don’t just stop immediately. They need time to work their way out of my system, like most medications do. But when I realized I was under a love spell,” he says it so calmly, naturally, not an ounce of anger or resentment, like he has completely let the issue go and Carlos is still puzzled by how everything works in Auradon, “I sought out the school medical staff and asked for generic suppressants she keeps on hand.”

“Generic suppressants?”

“Well, there are over the counter suppressants anyone can buy. Omegas or alphas, they’re the kind we gave to Jay and Mal.” Ben looks more uncomfortable with every passing moment. “But a person can also have suppressants prescribed to them. Once a doctor takes in your weight and height and history, they can give you an order for medicines specifically for you, whether you need something stronger or lighter.” He looks away, brow furrowed and eyes hardened.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Carlos says softly. He didn’t think it was possible to upset Ben, who hardly reacted to Mal admitting she put him under a spell, but Ben is clearly bothered by the questions and that unnerves Carlos.

He should be able to differentiate by now. Carlos knows Auradon is not the Isle and he probably won’t get hit for upsetting Ben, but what if he does? Just because Mal got away with a wicked scheme doesn’t mean Carlos will get away with prying too much. Mal is an alpha and she’s strong and dominant and in charge, but Carlos is weak and small and submissive and he should have kept his damn mouth shut.

“I am so sorry,” Ben finally whispers and Carlos’ eyebrows shoot up. “I…I know that you don’t have medical care on the Isle, you must have so many questions about medicine and doctors and health care.” Ben slowly exhales. “I can’t believe the life you all have lived. The life innocent children are still living.”

They’re not innocent, they’re anything but. Mal uses illegal magic and drugs Ben into loving her, Jay thieved and fought constantly, Evie helped him steal from Yen Sid’s lab, Carlos is a lying, secretive manipulator.

But he’s not about to say any of that aloud. Not to Ben, who sees the four of them as good and genuine. Ben, who sees them as worthy and redeemable, Carlos can’t ruin that image.

Especially since it makes him  _want_  to be a better person.

“Do you still have my suppressants, Carlos?” Ben asks, posture low, but eyes bright with hope.

“Yeah,” Carlos tells him. “I still have them.”

* * *

He’s doing this. He’s actually doing this. It’s happening. Today.

“What’s up, pup?” Jay asks as soon as Carlos walks through the door. “You sounded so stressed out today.”

Carlos rubs his palms on his pants, he is sweating and clammy all over. “Are the… The girls aren't here yet?”

“No, but they’ll be here soon,” Jay looks at the clock on his table stand. Mal and Evie have eight more minutes to arrive. “Carlos, seriously, what’s up?”

“I jus-just w-wanna wait f-f-for the girls.”

Jay stands from his bad and grabs Carlos’ shoulders. “You were real weird this morning, you’re real weird now. Are you okay?”

Carlos nods. He thinks so. He hopes so.

Earlier, before classes, Carlos hurriedly asked over breakfast for all of them to meet in the evening. He couldn’t say why because he hadn’t worked up the damn courage yet, but all of them agreed to meet at 7 in Jay’s room before Carlos ran off, hyperventilating in the cafeteria because he gave Ben’s suppressants back yesterday.

Which means Carlos is officially off suppressants.

Including his own homemade ones.

Jay brings his arms around Carlos and pulls him into a hug. “C, breathe. Whatever this is about, we’ll get through it.”

He brings his arms up to wrap around Jay’s back and nuzzles into the alpha’s chest. Jay kisses his hair and Carlos forces his heart rate to slow, concentrating on being surrounded by the warmth and strength of Jay.

This is it. He is going to tell them. Jay and Mal and Evie will all know the truth. It doesn’t have to be a secret anymore, he doesn’t have to fret and panic and think about Cruella selling him out. Carlos can tell his pack and be himself. They can live the rest of their lives in Auradon, happy and honest and themselves.

Mal and Evie walk in together, a fair distance a part. Ben and Mal agreed to keep up the appearance of dating until the coronation was over, after people stopped watching and scrutinizing everything they did. It would make so much more sense if Carlos waited until after coronation, when everything was calmer, but he has to do it now, he has to finally stop this.

“What’s wrong, Carlos?” Evie immediately grabs his hands. “You had us so worried this morning.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Carlos breathes out. “I, uh, I need to tell you guys something. It’s, uh, I, uh, it’s-s impo-portant.” Shit, he’s sweating and stuttering and his face is blotchy and he didn’t have time to comb his hair or wear something nice, but this doesn’t need to be nice because they’re his pack and they love him, but it does need to be nice because this is going to change their whole dynamic.

He’s doing this. He’s telling them. It’s happening.

Jay snaps his fingers in front of Carlos’ face. “C! Breathe, man!”

Carlos gasps and clutches his chest. Someone guides him to Jay’s bed and pushes him to sit. His head ends up between his knees and he chokes on air.

A wide hand rubbing circles on his spine must belong to Jay and one of the girls is combing her fingers through his hair. There are mumbled, soothing words, shushing him and surrounding him and Carlos slowly remembers to breathe.

He’s not purring though. Probably because of Ben’s suppressants still in his system, but Carlos doesn’t even think about it. He’s so warm and calm and at ease that he doesn’t even want to right now. His pack is here, they're all here with him.

“Deep breath, come on, pup. Deep breath.”

Carlos looks up at Evie’s voice. She is crouching in front of him.

“Whatever you want to tell us, it’s okay,” she whispers to him, cupping his face and kissing his lips briefly. “It’s okay. It’s all okay.”

Aftercare was one of the only others things Carlos read about in his books. A time for omegas to be comforted and held and praised after something intense, like a drop or a rough day. It involved physical affection and words of affirmation and blankets and quietness and soft hands.

He hasn't even told them his secret yet and they're already providing such comfort for him.

Fuck, he loves them all so much. He can tell them.

“I’ve been…keeping a secret.” Carlos avoids Evie’s eyes. “I…I couldn’t tell you before. But, I…I can. I want to.”

Evie shushes him immediately, her fingers pushing into his neck. “Your pulse is spiking again,” she says. “Just breathe, take your time. I…you know, I have my own secrets too.”

Carlos is still bent over his knees, Jay on one side and Mal on the other. He looks at Evie and waits.

“My mother,” Evie says and takes a deep breath, “she, well, she wanted me to be an omega. She always has.” Evie looks up at Jay and Mal. “She said that omegas were more likely to be princesses, more likely to attract a prince because they’re sweet and submissive.” The beta turns pink, fussing with a blue curl. “So… I never told anyone on the Isle. You three were my only friends, so it didn’t matter, but I was…I never knew what it meant.”

“E…” Mal hesitates and shifts on the bed. “What did Grimhilde do?”

“Well, she’s an alpha,” Evie flinches at her own words. “She hated it about herself, so she hid it on the Isle.”

To their credit, Jay and Mal don’t react at all. Carlos certainly never saw the Evil Queen’s role as a problem and he doubts any other alpha would either.

“So, ahem, she…would make me submit sometimes,” Evie whispers, looking at the ground. “Not even when her ruts came around, just randomly. She would make me kneel. She would bite my throat, but I always covered it up with makeup.” Evie touches her neck gently, feeling for bruises that should have faded weeks ago.

“Was it…” Jay squirms on the bed, “like…?”

“It wasn’t sexual.” Evie flushes on the ground. She trembles a bit before leaning forward and resting her head on Mal’s knee. “She wanted to bring out an omega in me. She wanted me to be able to fool a prince, so she….would make me crawl around sometimes.” Evie whimpers, high and pitiful. “She said I had to get used to being on my knees. She told me I wasn’t allowed to talk unless spoken to, I wasn’t allowed to make eye contact unless she called my name, I had to know how to work with a prince in his rut so she made me…made me s-s-stay on m-my kn-kn-knees.”

Carlos doesn’t realize Evie is crying until Mal sinks to the floor too. Mal wraps her arms around Evie, not giving a damn about their scents rubbing off on each other, and kisses her head.

“I hated it,” Evie chokes out. “It never felt r-right, I always felt dirty and like I w-wa-wasn’t good enough.”

“Shh, E, you’re okay.” Mal pulls her tighter. “You don’t need to do that. Not ever again.”

Jay moves off the bed too and Carlos follows until all of them are seated on the floor. Evie hides her face in Mal’s neck, hiccuping and shaking.

He never knew it was so bad for Evie. Carlos always knew her mother wanted her to be an omega and the Evil Queen constantly told Evie that she wasn’t pretty or beautiful or graceful. He knew that Evie tried to be more submissive to attract people, held herself in a way that never seemed natural for her light scent, no matter how often she did it.

If he weren’t working his way off Ben’s suppressants, Carlos would fully be purring right now.

“It’s alright, princess,” Jay tells her and kisses her palm. “You’re not…alone in that.”

Evie sniffles and quiets herself, wiping at her cheeks before looking up at Jay. Mal and Carlos turn to him as well and Jay holds their gazes.

“Two alphas under one house was bad,” he says and smiles like it’s funny, what he’s about to share, but Carlos has a sinking suspicion that it’s not funny at all. “My dad, Jafar,” Jay corrects himself and digs his fingers into the carpet, “he, uh, he bit me. A lot.”

Carlos pulls his knees up to his chest. He pieced together parts of Jay’s life with Jafar, understood the implication of two hard headed people living together. But he never asked. Carlos could never pry that much even if he wanted to.

“What did he do?” Mal asks, carefully watching Jay and holding Evie.

The silence is so tense and thick as they wait for his response. Carlos doesn’t know if he can bare to hear it, but he can’t sit in this moment of hell of not knowing because he's crazy about Jay and Carlos has to know what he's been through.

“He didn’t…fuck me.” Jay shakes his head, repulsed at the thought. “But, uh, sometimes, with his rut when I was young, but he hasn’t had one in a while…”

Jafar is one of the older villains and he is around the age where his ruts become less frequent and less intense. Carlos had noticed over the years that he spoke less about Jasmine not being a proper omega and he’s pretty sure Jafar’s fading strength is how Jay won their fight just before leaving the Isle. Jafar isn't out of his prime though, he's still strong and dominant and whatever he put Jay through could have lasted up until the day they left.

“You don’t have to tell us,” Carlos whispers. He isn’t sure if Jay really wants to share and honestly, Carlos isn’t sure if he really wants to know.

“He bit me. He made me submit to him.” Jay looks at the carpet and it seems as if he’s not present in the room anymore, like he’s far away. “Sometimes he would push my face to the floor and just… Or he would make me kneel and...” Jay digs his fingers into his skin, his teeth clenched together. “He always said it was more fun when I fought him, that I reminded him of Jasmine in that way. But the more I fought, the more violent he got.”

Carlos crawls over to Jay, prying his fingers away so the alpha doesn’t bruise himself. Evie moves closer too, kissing his shoulder and locking their hands together.

“It’s okay,” Evie mumbles into his chest. “He won’t ever touch you again.”

Jay laughs, broken and sad. “I always felt like I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe and I had to walk around with my head down and pretend to be what I’m not. I kept thinking…” he breathes harshly and clenches his eyes shut. “I kept thinking that I would die living there. I could never breathe and I always felt like I was trapped to be some bitch omega to him.”

Carlos draws back sharply, nearly flinching.

Evie notices and looks at him, but Jay doesn’t.

“I fucking hated myself,” Jay laughs again and lets his head fall back to rest on his bed. He squeezes Carlos’ hand and slowly, the tears fall from the corners of his eyes.

Immediately, Evie is in his lap, kissing his jaw and nuzzling him. “No, Jay,” she mumbles into his skin. “You can’t. You’re never going to do that again. No one’s going to touch you or-or make you submit.”

Shakily, Jay’s hands come to rest on her hips as Evie cuddles closer, embracing him.

“Never, never, never,” Evie promises as she holds him.

“It took you a while to be rough with me,” Mal says and moves closer. “You were so unsure and hesitant when we first started fucking around, it was like you didn’t know what to do in your rut. But once you started, it was a lot. Rough and hard and so much pent-up aggression.” Mal kisses Jay’s temple and strokes his hair. "But for my rut, you were totally calm. You didn't fight for control. And it must have... Thank you, Jay," she rubs his shoulder, "for doing that with me. I know you didn't want to."

Mal pulls back and assesses their little group. “None of us have to be a role we don’t want to be. Never again. No more hitting or beating or forced submission. No one in this group is an omega or has to act like it again.”

“Not when you practically have one.” Jay peeks an eye open, watching Mal with a hint of a smile.

She tenses. “Ben and I aren’t a thing. We’re acting like it so people won’t look down on Isle kids.” Mal fiddles with the carpeting beneath her fingers. “If we break up right before-.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Jay waves her off with a flick of his wrist. “But do you want to keep him? Now that we're staying and being good, do you want him?”

Carlos looks down at the carpet, face heating up at the idea of omegas being  _kept_ , like possessions, but a swirl of jealousy at the thought they might keep  _Ben_.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mal shrugs and looks like she’s trying not to care. “Ben isn’t interested in me. Us. Not like that.”

“But are you interested in him?” Evie asks, slipping sideways in Jay’s lap. She is unwilling to break contact with him, resting on his shoulder and looking at Mal carefully. “I mean, don’t all alphas…?” Evie bites her lip and falls off, leaning heavily against Jay.

“Hey, princess,” he coos at her and cups her chin, “you and C are more than enough for us, or any alpha.”

Mal reaches for Carlos’ hand, intertwining their fingers and pulling him into their cuddle pile. “We don’t need an omega.” She clenches Carlos’ fingers and looks out the window. “Not when they make us so weak.”

“Weak?” Carlos echoes.

“Ben was such a distraction,” Mal mutters as she leans against the bed. She absentmindedly strokes Carlos’ wrist with her thumb and it gives him chills. “I was so… _invested_  in him. When I found out he was an omega, it was all I could think about.” Mal looks at them all pointedly, “not that we ever did anything. We held hands and he asked to scent me a couple of times. That was all.”

“Scandalous.”

Mal punches Jay’s shoulder, but she smiles in the dark.

“What do you mean,” Carlos tries not to let his voice crack, “that Ben made you weak?”

She settles back down, exhaling slowly. “I guess… I don’t know if betas are affected by it, but hearing my whole life about people who are naturally submissive and cater to dominance and who wouldn’t fight for control, they seemed like…fairy tales.” Mal shrugs and looks at Carlos. “Something like that couldn’t exist on the Isle, I never imagined that they could exist in real life. So when Ben told me…it was hard not to be like obsessed with him.” Her face turns pink and she crosses her arms. “I was fascinated that he was even real.”

Silence falls over the four of them and in the dark room, Carlos feels cold and alone while he sits with three people he loves.

“So what was wrong?” Jay asks.

“He was a distraction. I could hardly focus on our plan, I felt like I wasn’t focusing on the ones I already claimed enough, like I was forgetting about you. Knowing he was an omega…it brought out all the desires in me, intense and wild. I couldn’t think straight when Ben was around because it was like I  _finally_  had something I never even allowed myself to think about before.” Mal’s voice is small in the dark, as if hiding from them all.

“You wanted to fuck him.”

She punches Jay’s shoulder again. “No. Yes. I don’t know. I felt out of it when I knew the truth. I was afraid of myself. All those new cravings and the dominance it brought out in me, I was afraid of what I...” Mal shakes her head and sits straighter. “I don’t need an omega to be a distraction or a  _weakness_. Our group, two alphas and two betas, that’s enough. That’s more than enough, this is perfect.”

Even in the dark, it is clear Evie is flourishing under the praise, but Carlos pulls his knees to his chest and rubs his wrists and the movement calls attention to him.

“What was it you wanted to tell us, pup?” Evie asks, crawling out of Jay’s lap. “We all came here for you.”

The three of them are silent, watching him. Carlos can feel all of their eyes on him even though he can’t see.

“Carlos?” Jay pokes his knee.

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to have sex with any of you!”

There’s a pause and then-.

“What the  _hell_  are you talking about?”

Carlos looks at Mal and is so thankful that the dark prevents him from having to make eye contact. “I, uh, I don’t want to have sex. With you guys. But don’t take it personally!” He gulps and tries to work out his thoughts. He has no idea what the group plans on getting up to now that Mal and Ben are done and they’re all staying in Auradon, but sex is a logical step in the future for their pack.

He’s thought about it so many times, more than he probably should. Carlos never thought about sex on the Isle because the only way it would happen was if Cruella found out and turned him into a whore. He blocked out thoughts and pictures of his mother staying true to her word, forcing Carlos on his knees and exchanging his body for money.

But now that he has a pack and he’s kissed them all, then been forced to not kiss them for weeks, his mind has been exploring every possibility of what Jay, Mal and Evie will be like during sex. Rough and aggressive or gentle and caring or desperate and passionate.

Right when he thought that maybe he could test that, Carlos could come clean and they could all discuss taking their relationship to the next level, it’s pulled away from him.

Suppressants or not, Carlos can't be that intimate with anyone. The heightened emotions would only make his scent stronger and he’s more likely to fall into his instinctive submissive nature in such a tense situation, not to mention the possibility of a  _drop_.

“Carlos, what is going on?” Evie grabs his arm.

“I don’t wanna have sex,” he tells her and his stomach aches with the lie. He thought he was done was lying to his pack, lying to everyone. “I-I-I know that what almost happened, that day with Jay and I, but…”

“Do you regret it?” Jay asks.

Carlos flinches at the pain in his voice. As if he could ever regret  _anything_  about Jay. “No! It was nice. Kissing. Was nice. Uh.” He jumps up because the space on the floor is too tight and he can’t look at their faces – even in the dark – for this.

“Pup, you’re not even 16. We don’t expect you too-.”

He cuts Evie off. “That’s what packs do. Sex. And we have two alphas,” whose ruts will only fuck with his head and his desires, Carlos can’t be around for those, he just can’t. “I…sex…”

“Sex doesn’t have to be a part of a pack!” Evie doesn’t stop his pacing, but she stands with him, following his movements. “You don’t need to be worried about this. Carlos, relax.”

He can’t and he hates himself. He hates his weakness, the weight he has placed on his pack without them even realizing it. He hates that he could be a distraction because distractions are dangerous and can get a person killed. He hates that they think their group is  _perfect_  as is and Carlos true nature will make them imperfect, he will ruin it all.

“Shh, it’s okay. Breathe, C, just breathe.”

Carlos clutches Jay’s shirt in his hands. The alpha is trying to move him onto the bed and make him sit, but Carlos refuses to budge because the only movement he wants right now is to drop to his knees and bare his throat and beg and beg and beg for them to still allow him to be a part of the pack.

Jay is in front of him and Evie is behind him and Mal is holding his hand again, they are here for him and they love him and care for him.

He can't  _weaken_  them.

So Carlos locks his knees and clenches his fist, focusing on evening his breathing and hating himself to the core.

* * *

The next day, Doug invites Carlos to chess club, which he almost wants to do. Chess sounds like fun to Carlos, calculating possibilities and memorizing moves, but he shakes his head and politely refuses.

Priorities come first.

Doug closes the door and Carlos sighs in relief. He slips out of his chair and over to his nightstand, opening the second drawer and sifting through the clothing on top.

Resting at the bottom, in the same place he left it, is his sack of chemicals and medicine and flora, all carefully wrapped and hidden. He has a few supplies left over from what he gathered on the Isle, plus what he’s sneaked away in Auradon from the chemistry lab and other students.

Carlos retrieves it all and places it on the ground. He is so thankful he hadn’t thrown it all away last night, otherwise he would have spent this hour digging through the dumpsters behind the building.

While that’s how he got his supplies on the Isle, Carlos prefers not to go to such lengths again unless necessary.

He still has the recipe from the Evil Queen’s lair memorized from nearly a year ago. Crushed petals to hide his natural smell, ground animal bones from the barges, fish scales from Ursula’s Fish and Chips, the list was a weird one. Once he mixed the dozen ingredients together, Carlos poured a tablespoon of the powder into his water and drank it all in one sitting.

The freshness of Auradon’s materials worries him. Surely, everything will work better when it’s not half rotten, but his body isn’t used to ripe, edible things. The first time he had fresh bread, Carlos had felt sick, no matter how delicious it had tasted.

It will all work better though, Carlos knows. His homemade suppressant will be stronger than before and he’s going to up the dosage. He can afford to Auradon. It’s easier to steal from the people here, easier to replace what he uses. Plus, he had Jay’s and Mal’s suppressants here too. Maybe they don’t fit  _him_ , but they get ground up and added in carefully. As long as Jay and Mal continue to lie about taking them, Carlos can keep adding them into his formula.

He’s been on suppressants for a year now. It’s about time for him to take a break, at least, according to Evie and her knowledge from her mother’s suppressants. His body needs time to have a heat, release those endorphins and reach that mental state.

But he doesn’t need that. Only  _omegas_  need that.

And Carlos is not going to put that burden on his pack.

He’s not going to be an omega anymore.

Continuously taking suppressants could mess up his biological functions, it could ruin his chance of kids…though, looking at Cruella and himself, Carlos thinks maybe that’s best.

But if it can fuck up his reproductive system, it can fuck up his biology too. If he suppresses this long enough, squashes down the _kneeling_ and _purring_ and  _nesting_ , eventually, it will all just go away. The omega in him will realize it’s never going to happen and he’ll take so many drugs that his body will give up. He’ll ruin the omega in him because he clearly wasn’t supposed to be  _this_.

Omegas aren’t supposed to happen on the Isle, there’s no known omega in his family line, he presented too late.

They’re  _sweet_ , which Carlos isn’t. He’s a liar. He’s a thief. He’s a backstabber.

And they need  _protection_  and Carlos isn’t doing that anymore. He’s not with Cruella and rapists and bullies, he’s tougher than any Auradon kid, he doesn’t need protection.

He doesn’t nest either. Purring is stupid. Kneeling is dangerous.

Most importantly, his pack doesn’t need an omega. An omega won’t fit, Mal said so. An omega would be a distraction, a danger, a weakness and Carlos isn’t any of those things, he won’t let himself do that to Mal and Jay and Evie.

He was never meant to be an omega. That’s a fact, everything points to that. It was a mistake.

A mistake that he is going to correct.

Carlos measures out the powder in front of him. He dumps the first tablespoon into his bottle of water, then the second. It’s double what he would normally take, but Carlos isn’t trying to  _suppress_  anymore.

He’s trying to destroy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was a doozy.
> 
> I wanted to keep Number 5 a surprise, that's why it doesn't say in the title of this chapter. Carlos is officially deciding to lie to himself and kill whatever makes him an omega. In his mind, he is convinced it was all a mistake and he is genuinely meant to be a beta.
> 
> One more chapter to go and the story will be wrapped up (and another ABO fic might get started because I have a problem.)
> 
> Okay, important AN:  
> Some of you saw this if you follow me on Tumblr (and if you don't yet, check me out at bunny-lou.tumblr.com). A wonderful majority of comments on Autophobia have been positive and helpful and heart-warming to read, thank you all so much for them.  
> But I also received, more than once, a question of whether Autophobia was abandoned.  
> I know that nobody meant that to be disrespectful or rude, but it is so discouraging to be asked if my work is discontinued because I've gone a couple of months without updating. I have a life outside of fanfiction, I have priorities outside of writing. When I do manage time to write, I am split between a dozen projects that I am trying to finish or continue.  
> Most importantly though, asking if a fic is abandoned downplays the hours and days that go into writing. I have to plot the chapter, then write it, move scenes around, edit, lengthen scenes, shorten scenes, have discussions with friends about where the story should go and what the best route is. I have to address if each line is in character, decide what of the movie needs to be addressed, consider what about Auradon changes in this AU. Editing alone takes two full weeks, and that is after all the writing, deciding, discussing, plotting and moving is done.  
> Please don't ever ask an author if their fic is discontinued (unless it's been a crazy amount of time, like a year *at least*). Again, I know no one meant to be rude and they asked because they enjoyed my fic, but it's very disheartening to see that's what people think.
> 
> But so many of the comments are cheerful and lovely, I would never discourage anyone from commenting!
> 
> And especially after the stress of this chapter, I could use a comment! Constructive criticism is welcome!
> 
> Edit 9-28-18: So many comments, thank you so much! A lot of people have been commenting specifically about the ending though, I would really appreciate thoughts on any part of the story! What did you think of the scenting and kissing? Ben being an omega? The roommate changes? Evie's self-doubt? Dude? Thank you all for the comments, I would love to hear more of what people thought of other scenes!


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